She had heard no sound of approaching feet. The
swish of the waves had covered all beside. She looked up at him with a
feeling of utter helplessness. "You!" she said.
He turned behind her, slim, upright, intensely vital, in the morning
light. She had an impression that he was dressed in loose flannels, and
she saw a bath-towel hanging round his neck.
"You have been bathing," she said.
He laughed down at her, she saw the gleam of the white teeth in his dark
face. "I say, what a good guess! You look shocked. Is it wrong to bathe
on Sunday?"
And then quite naturally he stretched a hand to her and helped her
to her feet.
"I've been watching you for a long time," he said. "I was only a dot
in the ocean, so of course you didn't see me. I say,--tell me,--what's
the matter?"
The question was so sudden that it caught her unawares. She found herself
looking straight into the dark eyes and wondering at their steady
kindliness. She knew instinctively that she looked into the eyes of a
friend, and as a friend she spoke in answer.
"I have had rather a worrying night. I came out for a little fresh air.
It was such a perfect morning."
"And you hoped you would have the place to yourself and be able to cry
it off in comfort," he said.
Pages:
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220