Then, with a sigh—she was a woman, with all a woman's belief in millinery's power—she hoped that not much talking would be needed. Silence and a good profile were more reliable. She looked at the clock: the minutes dragged slowly.
At a quarter to five she left the cottage. Before the hour reached the end of the Parade. An east wind was blowing. As she neared the seat the odour of cigars came to her, borne on the wind from which the smokers were sheltered. Then she advanced.
"Hullo, Sis!"
Dick started to his feet as if she were an apparition, spoke in an exaggerated tone of surprise; continuing:
"Who on earth would have thought of seeing you here?"
She could have soundly boxed his ears for him—well-meaning Dick—for so overdoing it. He could not have exhibited more surprise had he thought her dropped from the clouds. Brothers really are terribly trying at times.
Perhaps it was as well for him that he slowly moved away. Apparently he evinced a judicious, if sudden, interest in moonlight conchology. Anyway, he devoted his attention to some of the common objects of the sea-shore.
That Dick did move off was the essential point. She saw, with relief, that he had sense enough for that. The sound of the whistling of "Rule Britannia" gradually died away in the distance.
Masters had risen to his feet the moment his eyes fell on her. Stood there doubtful what he should do. She did not leave him in doubt long; advanced towards him, and stretching out her hand, said:
"Prince Charlie, I am—oh, I am so sorry! Please forgive me!"