For his part, Sir Tancred was ill at ease; he foresaw
that unless the _Petrel_ came soon a lot of annoying gossip might
spring from their accident, and he was distressed on her account. On
the other hand, he, too, found himself enjoying being alone with her
out of the world.
At last she said softly, "I feel as though we were on a desolate,
far-away island."
"I wish to goodness we were!" he cried, with a fervour which thrilled
her.
"You'd find it very dull," she said, with a faint, uncertain laugh.
"Not with you," he said quietly.
She was silent; and he took another turn up and down before he said,
half to himself, "It would simplify things so, we should be equal."
"Equal?"
"Oh, not from the personal point of view!" he said quickly. "You'd
always be worth a hundred of me. But on a desolate island money
wouldn't count."
"Oh, money!" she said with a faint disdain. "What has money to do with
anything?"
He sighed, and continued his pacing.
"Money is always an obstacle," he said presently. "Either there is too
little of it, and that's an obstacle; or there is too much of it, and
that's an obstacle."
"I don't think papa would agree with you about too much money," said
Dorothy.
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