marks upon inconsequent pages while a number of days went by, and involuntarily his ears inclined themselves in the direction of the neighboring lanai; although the ironwood wind-break with swishing branches, the boarded-up end of his own lanai and the prevailing wind from the mountains, all conspired to afford him the complete isolation which, in any other circumstances, he would have coveted.
And then one morning, as he sat before the unresponsive typewriter and his eyes wandered to the curve of the road, beyond the garden; he caught a glimpse of the slender figure in a swirling yellow frock and with bare head, facing the wind, with her hand twisted in the chain of the great grey police dog which was eagerly forging ahead, as if he sniffed game in the wilds beyond.
Dick sprang up and clashed out in her wake. He could at least meet or pass her, and say good morning; she could scarcely set the dog on him for that, especially if the encounter were obviously accidental. Outside of his hedge, he could see the curve of the road around which she had been going, but she was already out of sight; so he hurried along, nearly running, almost to the bend; and then suddenly slowed down to a nonchalant gait in order to saunter around the curve in the most ingenuous manner possible,—evidently merely out for a casual stroll. However, when the turned the bend,
