There's hardly a star.
Diane, I do wonder how you stand it. The shore looks like bands of
mourning crepe. And in the midst of it all, Diane, there in St.
Augustine, the Baron aeroplaned the top off the Carroll's orchard--"
"Aunt Agatha!" begged the girl helplessly. "What in the world is it
all about?"
Aunt Agatha flushed guiltily.
"Why is it," she demanded, "that no one ever seems to understand what
I'm saying? Dear knows I haven't a harelip or even a lisp. Why, Baron
Tregar, my dear. He's been staying in St. Augustine, too. It almost
seemed as if he had deliberately followed me there--though of course
that couldn't be. And the Prince too. And the Baron bought an
aeroplane to amuse himself and annoy the Carrolls--"
Aunt Agatha flushed again, cleared her throat and looked away. Why
Ronador was in St. Augustine she knew well enough. He had waited near
her, successfully, for news of Diane. And though the Baron had been
very quiet, he had kept his eye upon the Prince. Aunt Agatha had for
once been the startled hub of intrigue.
"And what with the driver mumbling to himself this afternoon because I
lost my umbrella and made him go back, and the horse having ribs," she
complained, shying from a topic which contained dangerous possibilities
of revealing a certain indiscretion, "I do wonder I'm here at all.
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