"If I may," he said, "I will walk a little way with you."
They crossed the strip of shingly beach together. Afterwards, by necessity, the party became detached. Mr. Sarsby walked on ahead. Deane and the girl followed him, a few yards behind.
"You seem to have found plenty to say to my uncle," she remarked curiously.
"If you will spoil an interesting tea-party," he murmured, "by bringing in an elderly male relative,—"
"It wasn't my fault," she interrupted. "He would come—insisted upon it—as soon as he knew that I had spoken to you. Your man has been making purchases and sending telegrams in the village, which has made every one curious. People who live in small places are always such snobs."
He laughed. "Well, I had to talk to your uncle, anyhow," he said.
She nodded. "You know now what I have to put up with," she said. "He is a dull, ignorant, pompous little bore. You have probably found that out for yourself by now."
"You dismiss your relatives a little summarily," he remarked.
"I try to speak the truth," she answered. "I believe in being just to people. If I knew of any good quality that he possessed, I would tell it to you,—but I don't!"
She believed in being just! He looked at her as she walked by his side, stepping along with the delightful freedom of healthy youth, her limbs clearly defined beneath her thin skirt,—for they were facing a land breeze which played havoc, also, with her hair. She walked well, her head a little thrown back. Deane recognized the graceful lines of her neck and throat, the carriage of her chin. There was something particularly rhythmic about her movements. She was a believer in justice! Well, she looked like that. The mouth, in repose, was a little hard,—the jaw determined. He found himself wondering, with a nervous sort of morbid curiosity, exactly what she would say and do if she had known with whom she was walking, and if Dick Sinclair had indeed been her uncle! Supposing she knew the whole truth,—knew of that heated interview, knew of Rowan's enterprise, knew of the paper which was still sewn into the dead man's coat! She would scarcely be an easy person to deal with, he thought.