"Is the disposition to want more, in Southerners, confined to the male sex?" he laughed.
"In _some things_--yes, unquestionably yes!" she retorted. Then changed the subject. "Has Mr. Croyden told you of his experience, last evening?"
"What possible danger could there be--the treasure isn't at Clarendon."
"But they think it is--and desperate men sometimes take desperate means, when they feel sure that money is hidden on the premises."
"In a town the size of Hampton, every stranger is known."
"How will that advantage, in the prevention of the crime?" she asked.
"They don't need stay in the town--they can come in an automobile."
"They could also drive, or walk, or come by boat," he added.
"They are not so likely to try it if there are two in the house. Do you intend to remain at Clarendon some time?"
"I engage to be nice for--two weeks!" she smiled.
"Done!--I'm booked for two weeks, at least."
"And when the two weeks have expired we shall consider whether to extend the period."
She flung him a look that was delightfully alluring.
"Do you wish me to--consider that?" she asked, softly.
"We are coming on!" she exclaimed. "This pace is getting rather brisk--did you notice it, Mr. Macloud?"
"You're in a fast class, Miss Carrington."
"You were speaking in the language of the race track, I presume."
"A Southern girl usually loves--horses," with a tantalizing smile.
"It is well for you this is a public street," he said.
"Why?" she asked, with assumed innocence.
"But then if it hadn't been, you would not have ventured to tempt me," he added. "I'm grateful for the temptation, at any rate."
"No, not likely--but his first that he has resisted."
"And why did you resist? The fact that we are on a public street would not restrain you. There was absolutely no one within sight--and you knew it."
"This is rather faster than the former going!" he laughed.
"We would better slow down a bit!" she laughed back. "Any way, here is the Cemetery, and we dare not go faster than a walk in it. Yonder, just within the gates, is the Duval burial place. Come, I'll show you Parmenter's grave?"
They crossed to it--marked by a blue slate slab, which covered it entirely. The inscription, cut in script, was faint in places and blurred by moss, in others.