Monsieur de Maubert had got up and gone inside and mademoiselle Blanche had parted from them at the cliff-top.
“I will sit here in the shade with you and rest, chère madame,” said André, casting himself into monsieur de Maubert’s vacated garden chair.
“And you, ma petite,” said madame Vervier, still holding her child by the hand, “may, if you wish, and if monsieur Giles will accompany you, bathe now. You will have time before lunch.”
“I should like that very much. But I do not need anyone. It is quite safe,” said Alix, with a curious lassitude in her tone.
“But, indeed, you may not go alone,” smiled madame Vervier.
“And I should love a swim,” said Giles.
So, presently, he and Alix were on the beach again.
But when they came to the rock where, with safety, the bathing-robes might be deposited, Alix, instead of doffing hers, sat down and said: “Shall we talk a little?”
“Do let us talk,” said Giles, and a great wave of relief went through him. At all events, Alix would not keep things from him. He sat down beside her. Only the sea and sky were before them.
“I had to tell Maman last night, Giles,” said Alix. She looked straight before her, wrapped to her chin in the white folds of her robe, and he felt that she had to keep herself by sheer self-mastery from reddening before him now, as she had last night when she had heard Maman talk of Toppie.