"Yes, I know." Angela could hardly have explained why, but somehow she did not want to hear Mrs. Gaylor talked of just then. She was no longer indifferent to the idea of seeing Nick's home, and the woman who had helped him to make it, yet she was not sure that she wished to go there. Certainly she did not wish to visit Mrs. Gaylor. But--she would like to know whether the mistress of the Gaylor ranch was really so very beautiful. "What we must think about now, is how to get out of this church," she went on, laughing faintly in the dark. "It seems as if we might have to stay here all the rest of our lives." "Are you hungry?" Nick inquired. "A little." In his enraged disgust at not being able to procure a meal, Nick would gladly have killed and cooked the owl. "Are _you?_" Angela asked. "Am I--what?" "Hungry." "Good heavens, no!" Time passed vaguely, as time does pass in the dark, when there are no means of counting the minutes. They could hear their watches ticking, if they listened, but they never listened long enough to know how the seconds went by. And all the matches were gone. "It's like being lost in a cave, or a mine, or the catacombs," Angela reflected aloud, "with your only candle burnt out. You can't tell whether it's minutes or hours." "It must be mighty tedious for you, I'm afraid; though Billy's sure to come back soon," said Nick. "No, somehow it isn't tedious," she answered as if puzzled. "I suppose I'm rather excited. And you----" "Well, I suppose I'm rather excited, too," said Nick, in his low, quiet voice, that did not betray what he felt. Angela's voice told more of what went on in her soul. It was, as Nick often thought, a voice of lights and shadows. At last--what time it might be they could not tell--there came a sound of a key turning in a lock. The door opened, and a yellow ray from a lantern streamed into the church, making the owl in its corner flutter wildly. Billy's face showed in a frame of dull gold, as he peered about, blinking. Then, for the first time, Angela knew that Nick had been angry with the chauffeur. There was something in his tone as he said, "Well! So you have come!" which suggested that, if she had not been there, the "forest creature" might have added some strong and primitive language. "Couldn't help it, Mr. Hilliard. I done the best I could," Billy explained hastily. "When I got out there, I was up against a tough proposition, and I guess it would have been tougher yet if I'd stopped to do much thinking." "I don't know what your proposition was. But seems to me if it had been mine I'd have found time to yell: 'All right--coming as soon as I can!' as I passed the open window," Nick remarked dryly. "Mrs. May'll think we're a nice lot." But Billy broke into a flood of explanations, too proud to excuse himself to Hilliard, after being, as he thought, unjustly reproached, yet willing to justify himself in the eyes of the lady.