"I'm a fool," he said, speaking with an odd, unsteady vehemence. "Fact is, I've been out all night on this beastly shore. I've walked miles. And I suppose I'm tired."
He made the confession with a shamefaced laugh, still looking away to the horizon.
"All night!" Avery repeated in astonishment. "But, Piers!"
He nodded several times, emphatically. "And those infernal sea-birds have been squawking along with those thrice-accursed crows ever since day-break. I'd like to wring their ugly necks, every jack one of 'em!"
Avery laughed in spite of herself. "We all feel peevish sometimes," she said, as one of the offenders sailed over-head with a melancholy cry. "But haven't you had any breakfast? You must be starving."
"I am!" said Piers. "I feel like a wolf. But you needn't be afraid to sit down. I shan't gobble you up this time."
She heard the boyish appeal in his voice and almost unconsciously she yielded to it. She sat down on the rock beside him, but he instantly slipped from it and stretched himself in a dog-like attitude at her feet.
His chin was propped in his hands, his face turned to the white sand on which he lay. She looked down at his black head with more than compassion in her eyes. It was horribly difficult to snub this boy-lover of hers.
She sat and waited silently for him to speak.
He dropped one hand at length and began to dig his brown fingers into the powdery sand with irritable energy; but a minute or more passed before very grumpily he spoke.