spot on the map of their imagination. Paris, for instance"
"I should hate to stay in Paris," said Nora, but added quickly, "unless, of course, you wanted to be there."
"I don't," said Terry. "I should hate to stay there as much as you would. Paris is a place to stop in only when you are gay and happy, and want to be amused. You and I both need just now to be near to nature, and away from the things we have been seeing and thinking about."
"Oh, yes, if anything could make me better, it would be that," breathed the girl. "But—" she looked at Terry strangely, as if she tried to read her soul. "I daren't go with you if—unless I'm sure"
"Sure of what?"
"I hardly know how to say it."
"I think you may say almost anything to me."
"Almost anything! But this—why, it is only that, if I go away with you, I mustn't be expected to talk about Friars' Moat or—or"
"You needn't," broke in Terry.
"And—that isn't all. If you are asking me to go with you, just because you were a friend of—hers, and because you want to please Sir Ian, then I mustn't go on false pretences."
"False pretences?" echoed Terry. "I don't understand."
