“Not in the least,” she answered me. “I don’t like the place when the tide’s rolling in—it’s too rough and too fierce—but it’s lovely in the ebb-tide! Did you ever see anything so still as it is then—the water’s edge creeping inward, and such a wonderful blue-green? No, I’m not superstitious about it at all. I’m going swimming, one of these nights, when the tide’s going out. I’d cross it to-night in an emergency.”
“You’re a strong swimmer, then.”
“I can swim well enough—nothing to boast of though. Ned”—for we had got to the first name stage, long since—“this whole matter will be cleared up in a few days more. Such things always do come out right. I wouldn’t be surprised if that poor man’s body should be found any day, dragged into some thicket. The rocks are full of caves—perhaps the drag hooks simply failed to find it.”
“And your uncle—he feels the way you do?”
“Of course. If you are talking about that silly legend—it gives him only the keenest delight as a big story to tell his friends. He has no more superstitious fear about this lagoon than I have.”
“Have you talked to him since the inquest?”
“You know I haven’t.”
“He got two telegrams to-day. They seemed to go mighty hard with him. I was wondering—whether you ought to go to him now.”
A little line came between her straight brows. “I can’t imagine what they could be——” she said.
“The loss of some friend? Financial loss, perhaps——?”