He was of no mind to introduce himself at the Standish home, a second time, as the returner of a runaway dog.
Wherefore, he sought to remain unseen, and to wait with what patience he could until the householder should have gone indoors.
Apparently, on reaching home, Standish had driven the car to the garage and had pottered around there for some minutes before starting for the house.

He was carrying something loosely in one hand, and he did not seem in any hurry.
"My friend," said Gavin, soundlessly, "if a girl like Claire Standish was waiting for me, beyond, that shaft of light, I'd make the trip in something better than no time at all.

But then--she's not my sister, thank the good Lord!" He grinned at his own silly thoughts concerning the girl he had talked to for so brief a time.

Yet he found himself looking at her elder brother with a certain reluctant friendliness, on her account.
Suddenly, the grin was wiped from his face, and he was tense from head to foot.
Standish, on his way homeward, was strolling past a clump of dwarf shrubbery.

And, idly watching him, Gavin could have sworn that one end of the shrubbery moved.
Then, he was no longer in doubt.