She clasped her hands tightly together. "How can I help it? Everything is hard. Life is hard."
"Only if you choose to have it so," said Saltash.
He leaned a little forward, looking into her face. She turned her eyes to his with a vague reluctance.
"Yes," he said. "You've got the wrong pilot on board. That's why you're getting dragged into the whirlpools. You'll have to heave him over the side if you want to ride the seas with a free helm. My dear girl, what a frightful mess you've made of things!"
She did not resent his tone. Somehow in that atmosphere resentment was difficult. Moreover, her attention was not wholly given to what he was saying.
"I had to think of Bunny," she said, after a moment, as one in search of an excuse.
Saltash laughed. "And when are you going to begin to think of yourself? Don't you realize what is going to happen now that Bunny has been taken off your hands? You, the dainty, the proud, the fastidious, who wouldn't look at even the man you loved because you thought him unworthy! On my soul,--" a sudden tremor of passion ran through his speech--"I think you were mad. You must have been mad to have done such a thing. Have you looked forward at all? Can you see yourself a few years hence? I can--and it's a sight to make angels weep. Oh, Maud, my love, my fate, is that to be the end? I'd sooner see you dead!"
His hand was upon both hers as he ended. His dark face was burning with a fierce emotion.
But Maud only shivered, and leaning forward, gazed deep into the heart of the fire, saying no word.
Saltash watched her, a mocking light in his eyes that shone and slowly died. "What are you looking for?" he said.