"Unless you contrive to get stabbed again," she added doubtfully, "I really don't see what's keeping you." "When I may help you break camp and escort you back to your aunt," replied Philip pleasantly, "I'll pack up my two shirts and my wildwood pipe and depart, exceedingly grateful for my stay in Arcadia." Diane bit her lip and frowned.
"Suppose," she flashed, with angry scarlet in her cheeks, "suppose I break camp and leave you behind!" "I'll go with you," shrugged Philip.

"Don't you remember?
I told you so before.

And I'll sit on the rear steps of the van all the way to Florida and play a tin whistle." Appalled by the thought of the spectacular vagaries which this Young Man of the Sea might develop if she took to the road, Diane said nothing.
"No matter how I view you," she indignantly exclaimed a little later, "you're a problem." "Settle the problem," advised Philip.

"It's simple enough." "He'll go presently," she told herself resentfully.

"He'll have to." "How it amuses these fish to watch me murder worms!" exclaimed Philip in deep disgust.