Andrew had an uncomfortable feeling that Geraldine and her father were right. One thing led to another, and he might be drawn irresistibly into a long series of business complications, which was by no means what he had at first contemplated. Nevertheless, if his services were of any value, Allinson's had the first claim on them. He dismissed the matter when Frobisher suggested that they go in to supper. Frobisher was witty, Geraldine charmingly cordial, and it was with regret that Andrew took his leave. Geraldine walked to the pier with him and he noticed a gentleness in her face that set his heart to beating. He thought the soft dusk emphasized her beauty by etherealizing it. When they reached the steps she turned to him with a smile. "I feel as if I'd presumed too far," she said. "After all, I'm only a girl and younger than you are, which doesn't seem to justify my imposing my half-formed views on you." "I don't think that matters," returned Andrew. "I believe those views are right." "Then, though you had better test them thoroughly, you don't feel offended?" "I am grateful; but there's one point that disturbs me. I shouldn't like to think you were reconciled to the idea of getting rid of me." Geraldine smiled at him. "That would be a wrong conclusion. If it's any comfort, we shall miss you; but it isn't such a very long journey from England to the Lake of Shadows. You will find it needful to come over and see how the mines are working now and then." "Whether the mines need me or not, I shall come." She gave him her hand. "We'll consider it a promise; but you're not going yet, and you needn't neglect us before you start." When she turned away Andrew got into his canoe and paddled back to the Landing. He had, he felt, been firmly held off at arm's length, but for all that he had noticed faint hints of tenderness in the girl's manner which were highly encouraging, and she undoubtedly took a strong interest in him. He must proceed cautiously and avoid alarming her by being precipitate. That, after all, was the course he preferred, for he was strangely diffident in love. A day or two later he saw Turner in the bar at the hotel, where several others were lounging; but the man gave him a careless greeting. Andrew went into the lobby and Turner presently sauntered in. "Can you come down to the beach behind the sawmill dump in a few minutes?" he asked. Andrew nodded, and when Turner went out he put some bills into his wallet and made for the beach. It was a quiet place, hidden between a rocky head and a bank of sawdust, and Turner was waiting for him. "I suppose you have come for the money I promised you?" Andrew said. "That's not the only thing, though I'd be glad to have it." Andrew counted out several bills.