"Oh, yes, he can," the other assured him. "He can have the heart all right, but he mustn't insist upon writing 'for value received' upon every transaction. He must make up his mind to do without exact appreciation, just for the satisfaction he gets in letting his heart go at its own pace."
"That's pretty poor comfort, isn't it?"
"It's much better than none. You can find solid satisfaction in it after a while. At any rate it's much better than the feeling of having a frozen heart in your bosom."
"Are you walking back my way, Mr. Williams?" asked Kenneth, turning from the sea.
"I'm going on a little further."
"You've given me a lot to think about. I'm glad we met. I hope we can have some more talks." And Kenneth held out his hand, before he slowly retraced his steps. "What a remarkable sort of man to find here," he said to himself as he went along the now moonlit road. "I haven't a doubt but he has an interesting history."
CHAPTER VIII
SUSPICIONS
This was not the last talk that Kenneth and Luther Williams had together, for often the older man would come upon the younger, sitting before his sketching easel or with color-box in hand, climbing the cliffs, or it might be that they would meet upon that solitary and silent spot at the end of the island where it seemed most fitting that serious things should be discussed. In consequence of this outlet to his feelings, Kenneth, after this, displayed himself to Gwen in his most sunny moods, his graver, more morbid ones being reserved for the nights when he and Luther Williams stood side by side, the moaning sea before them.