"Only to rest," he answered.
"Where are you staying?"
He turned around and pointed to the square stone tower which stood on the edge of the sea. "I am stopping there," he answered,—"the old Coastguard's Tower they call it, I believe. It is the queerest habitation I have ever been in."
"You wonderful person!" she declared. "How ever did you get old Pegg and his wife to clear out?"
"I paid them well," he answered. "At least I didn't do it myself. My servant comes from these parts, and he told me about the place and arranged everything. I am hoping to be able to buy it."
There was, as he had remarked from the first, not the slightest reticence about her. She had almost the frankness of a child.
"You have a servant?" she asked, looking at him with renewed interest. "Do you mean that he is there with you now?"
Deane nodded. "I could scarcely be expected to cook for myself, could I?" he inquired. "He completes my establishment."
"I suppose," she said, "you are a rich man."
Deane shrugged his shoulders. "Wealth," he remarked, "is a relative thing."