He did not pursue his advantage; he liked her for the blush.
"Isn't it rather an unprofitable discussion?" he said gently. "Suppose we get to our game of Patience!"
And Rose acquiesced in silence.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE KNIGHT IN DISGUISE
A long, curling wave ran up the shingle and broke in a snow-white sheet of foam just below Dinah's feet. She was perched on a higher ridge of shingle, bareheaded, full in the glare of the mid-June sunlight. Her brown hands were locked tightly around her knees. Her small, pointed face looked wistfully over the sea.
She had been sitting in that position for a long time, her green eyes unblinking but swimming in the heat and glare. The dark ringlets on her forehead danced in the soft breeze that came over the water. There was tension in her attitude, the tension of deep and concentrated thought.
Into the midst of her meditations, there came a slow, halting step. It fell on the shingle behind her, reaching her above the roar of the breakers, and instantly a flood of colour rushed up over her face and neck.
Sharply she turned. "Scott!"
She was on her feet in a second with hand outstretched in welcome.