She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. ‘Parbleu, but it is not comfortable in the least in there. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Only she is not Madame Valade at all. Will you take your old place by Miss Ellicot. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain.
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