He stretched
himself.
"I'll get mine, too," he said.
But he carefully went to find it in a direction different from
that taken by his sister, and he joined her and her escort not
till they were at the front door, whither Mr. Blakely--with a
last flickering of hope had urged a flight in haste.
"I been thinkin' of takin' a walk, all afternoon," said Penrod
pompously. "Don't matter to me which way we go."
The exquisite oval of Mr. Claude Blakely's face merged into
outlines more rugged than usual; the conformation of his jaw
became perceptible, and it could be seen that he had conceived an
idea which was crystallizing into a determination.
"I believe it happens that this is our first walk together," he
said to Margaret, as they reached the pavement, "but, from the
kind of tennis you play, I judge that you could go a pretty good
gait. Do you like walking fast?"
She nodded. "For exercise."
"Shall we try it then?"
"You set the pace," said Margaret. "I think I can keep up."
He took her at her word, and the amazing briskness of their start
seemed a little sinister to Penrod, though he was convinced that
he could do anything that Margaret could do, and also that
neither she nor her comely friend could sustain such a speed for
long.
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