"Don't worry, Ann," he pursued, tucking a friendly arm into hers. "No one need ever know. But I could kick myself for landing you into this mess. It's all my fault. If I hadn't gone fooling about at the top of that ravine and come to grief we should be buzzing comfortably homeward in the train." "You did it for me," cried Ann quickly. Now that the first shock of realisation was over she was recovering her usual cheery outlook on things. "You mustn't blame yourself. It's no one's fault. It's just--" "The cussedness of things," vouchsafed Tony, as she paused. "Yes, Just that. Well"--she gave her shoulders a slight shrug as though she were shaking off a burden--"we may as well make the best of things. At least we shall see the sunset up here. It's supposed to be rather wonderful, isn't it?" "I believe the sun_rise_ is the special thing to see. You'll have to get up early to-morrow, ma'am." He paused a moment, then went on with frank admiration: "Ann, you're a real little sport! There isn't one girl in twenty would have taken this business as well as you have. They'd have been demanding my head on a charger." "It wouldn't be any use making a fuss about a pure accident," she returned philosophically. "Let's just enjoy it--the sunset and the moonrise and everything else. Oh! I do hope they'll give us a decent dinner! You did us out of our tea by tumbling over the precipice--don't make a habit of it, please, Tony!--and I'm simply starving." He nodded. "I'll go and order some grub--and book rooms." He paused uncertainly. "By the way, I'll have to enter our names in the hotel register, I suppose?" "Our names?" Ann flushed nervously. "Oh, you can't--I mean--" "Don't worry," he said soothingly. "I shan't enter us under our own names, of course. What do you say to Smith--nice, inoffensive sort of name, don't you think? 'G. Smith and sister'--I think that'll meet the necessities of the case." Ann giggled suddenly. "It's all rather funny if it wasn't so--so--" "Improper," supplied Tony obligingly. "Call it unconventional," she supplemented. "It sounds better. And now do go and order some food for 'G. Smith and sister.' Sister is literally starving." Half an hour later they were light-heartedly demolishing an excellent dinner, and the manager of the Hotel de Loup was congratulating himself upon the acquisition of two unexpected guests during the slack season. Afterwards they made another pilgrimage up to the Roche d'Or to watch the sunset.