“I’m not made of sugar,” said Lexy scornfully, “I’ve got to run down there just for an instant, before I go in.”
“But, I say, your nice little hat, you know!”
Lexy pulled off the nice little hat and laid it on his knee. Then she rapped on the window, the driver stopped, and Lexy opened the door.
“No! Look here! Please, Miss Moran!” cried Captain Grey. “Very well, then, if you will go, I’ll go with you!”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Lexy. “I feel as if I’d like to go alone just for one look. You know how it is, sometimes. I[Pg 337] haven’t had even a smell of the sea for so long; and it reminds me—”
She looked at him with a shadowy little smile, and he did understand.
“All right!” he said. “Then slip on my coat.”
She did so, to oblige him, and off she went, half running, down the lane, in the direction of the sound of the surf. Captain Grey looked after her—such an absurd little figure in that aquascutum of his that almost touched the ground! He watched her till she was out of sight; then he sat down in the cab and lit a cigarette.
He thought about her, but Lexy had forgotten him. She found herself on a desolate stretch of wet sand, with the gray sea tossing under a gray sky. She smelled the hearty, salt smell, she remembered old things, sad and sweet. Tears came into her eyes, and she felt them on her cheeks, warm, salt as the sea. If only she could go running home, back to the house where her mother used to wait for her! If only she could find her father’s big, firm hand clasping her own!
“I mustn’t be like this,” she said to herself. “Daddy would feel ashamed of me.”