"Take me with you," she said late one night as they sat lazily in the grass under the shadowy spreading palms. The negroes had brought ashore their musical instruments, and the sound of weird ragtime was drifting softly over on the warm breath of the night. "I'd love to reappear in ten years, as a fabulously wealthy high-caste Indian lady," she continued. Carlyle looked at her quickly. "You can, you know." She laughed. "Is it a proposal of marriage? Extra! Ardita Farnam becomes pirate's bride. Society girl kidnapped by ragtime bank robber." "It wasn't a bank." "What was it? Why won't you tell me?" "I don't want to break down your illusions." "My dear man, I have no illusions about you." "I mean your illusions about yourself." She looked up in surprise. "About myself! What on earth have I got to do with whatever stray felonies you've committed?" "That remains to be seen." She reached over and patted his hand. "Dear Mr. Curtis Carlyle," she said softly, "are you in love with me?" "As if it mattered." "But it does--because I think I'm in love with you." He looked at her ironically. "Thus swelling your January total to half a dozen," he suggested. "Suppose I call your bluff and ask you to come to India with me?" "Shall I?" He shrugged his shoulders. "We can get married in Callao." "What sort of life can you offer me? I don't mean that unkindly, but seriously; what would become of me if the people who want that twenty-thousand-dollar reward ever catch up with you?" "I thought you weren't afraid." "I never am--but I won't throw my life away just to show one man I'm not." "I wish you'd been poor. Just a little poor girl dreaming over a fence in a warm cow country." "Wouldn't it have been nice?" "I'd have enjoyed astonishing you--watching your eyes open on things. If you only wanted things! Don't you see?" "I know--like girls who stare into the windows of jewelry-stores." "Yes--and want the big oblong watch that's platinum and has diamonds all round the edge. Only you'd decide it was too expensive and choose one of white gold for a hundred dollar. Then I'd say: 'Expensive? I should say not!' And we'd go into the store and pretty soon the platinum one would be gleaming on your wrist." "That sounds so nice and vulgar--and fun, doesn't it?" murmured Ardita. "Doesn't it? Can't you see us travelling round and spending money right and left, and being worshipped by bell-boys and waiters? Oh, blessed are the simple rich for they inherit the earth!" "I honestly wish we were that way." "I love you, Ardita," he said gently. Her face lost its childish look for moment and became oddly grave.