"
The geologist stirred uneasily, and avoided his wife's eyes. "I--I'm
afraid not, Smith. Rather think I'd prefer to rest a while. You do
it!"
Smith laughed and reddened. "Nothing doing for an old bach like me.
Cunora might--well, you know--go in bathing, for instance. It's all
right for the doctor, of course; but--let me out!"
Meanwhile the two women on Sanus, taking the utmost care, managed to
retreat from the river bank without being discovered. Keeping their
eyes very wide open and their ears strained for the slightest buzz,
the two contrived to pass through the village, out into the fields,
and thence, from cover to cover, into the foothills on that side of
the valley where their lovers had found the pyrites.
"If only we knew which stream they ascended!" lamented Cunora, as
they stood in indecision before a fork in the river.
"But we don't!" Rolla pointed out philosophically. "We must trust to
luck and Mownoth, ye and I."
And despite all the effort the doctor could put forth to the
contrary, the two women picked out the wrong branch.
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