"Go and look for yourself then, sir, if you don't believe me!" he cried in the tone of one rebuffing an unjust accusation. "You're a Magistrate. Police ought to stop it I say. Public 'arlotry I call it."
The Colonel's face became cold and very lofty. "No, Caspar. I don't do that sort of thing," he said.
Alf, muttering excuses, departed. The Colonel watched him walk along the dotted coast-guard track and disappear round the shoulder of the coombe. Then he rose and strolled out to meet Ernie who was approaching.
As he did so he heard voices from the beach beneath him and peeped over. Ruth, on her hands and knees amid the chalk boulders at the foot of the cliff, was smoothing the sand and spreading something on it.
A few yards away Joe was standing at the edge of the tide, which was almost high, flinging pebbles idly into the water. Some earth dislodged from the Colonel's feet and made a tiny land-slide. The woman on her hands and knees in the growing dusk beneath looked up and saw the man standing above her. She made no motion, kneeling there; facing him, fighting him, mocking him.
"Having a nice time together?" he asked genially.
"Just going to, thank-you kindly," Ruth replied and resumed her occupation of sweeping with her hands.
The Colonel turned to find Ernie standing beside him and burning his battle-flare.
"Lucky I see you coming, sir," he said, trembling still. "Else I might ha done him a mischief."
"Who?"