Kirk, meanwhile, uneasy, but a little guessing at the fury behind
Ruth's calm face, was expounding his great scheme, his panacea for all
the ills of domestic misunderstandings and parted lives.
"Ruth, old girl."
Ruth shuddered.
"Ruth, old girl, I've had a bully good idea. It's getting too warm for
anything in New York. Did you ever feel anything like it is to-day? Why
shouldn't you and I pop down to the shack and camp out there for a week
or so? And we would take Bill with us. Just we three, with somebody to
do the cooking. It would be great. What do you say?"
What Ruth said languidly was: "It's quite impossible."
It was damping; but Kirk felt that at all costs he must refuse to be
damped. He clutched at his cheerfulness and held it.
"Nonsense," he retorted. "Why is it impossible? It's a great idea."
Ruth half hid a yawn. She knew she was behaving abominably, and she was
glad of it.
"It's impossible as far as I'm concerned. I have a hundred things to do
before I can leave New York."
"Well, I could do with a day or two to clear up a few bits of work I
have on hand. Why couldn't we start this day week?"
"It is out of the question for me. About then I shall be on Mr.
Milbank's yacht. He has invited me to join his party. The actual day is
not settled, but it will be in about a week's time.
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