Lynborough studied the wall; it was twice the height of the wall on the other side; it might be possible to scale, but difficult and laborious; nor would he look imposing while struggling at the feat. "You'll have to go round by the road," remarked Norah, breaking into a smile. Lynborough was enjoying the conversation just as much as she was--but he wanted two things; one was victory, the other coffee. "Can't I persuade you to move?" he said imploringly. "I really don't want to have to resort to more startling measures." "You surely wouldn't use force against a girl, Lord Lynborough!" "I said startling measures--not violent ones," he reminded her. "Are your nerves good?" "Excellent, thank you." "You mean to stand where you are?" "Yes--till you've gone away." Now she laughed openly at him. Lynborough delighted in the merry sound and the flash of her white teeth. "It's a splendid morning, isn't it?" he asked. "I should think you stand about five feet five, don't you? By the way, whom have I the pleasure of conversing with?" "My name is Norah Mountliffey." "Ah, I knew your father very well." He drew back a few steps. "So you must excuse an old family friend for telling you that you make a charming picture at that gate. If I had a camera--Just as you are, please!" He held up his hand, as though to pose her. "Am I quite right?" she asked, humoring the joke, with her merry mischievous eyes set on Lynborough's face as she leaned over the top of the gate. "Quite right. Now, please! Don't move!" "Oh, I've no intention of moving," laughed Norah mockingly. She kept her word; perhaps she was too surprised to do anything else. For Lynborough, clapping his hat on firmly, with a dart and a spring flew over her head. Then she wheeled round--to see him standing two yards from her, his hat in his hand again, bowing apologetically. "Forgive me for getting between you and the sunshine for a moment," he said. "But I thought I could still do five feet five; and you weren't standing upright either. I've done within an inch of six feet, you know. And now I'm afraid I must reluctantly ask you to excuse me. I thank you for the pleasure of this conversation." He bowed, put on his hat, turned, and began to walk away along Beach Path. "You got the better of me that time, but you've not done with me yet," she cried, starting after him. He turned and looked over his shoulder: save for his eyes his face was quite grave. He quickened his pace to a very rapid walk. Norah found that she must run, or fall behind. She began to run. Again that gravely derisory face turned upon her. She blushed, and fell suddenly to wondering whether in running she looked absurd. She fell to a walk. Lynborough seemed to know. Without looking round again, he abated his pace. "Oh, I can't catch you if you won't stop!" she cried.