"I see you are not. But I couldn't risk it. Besides, he was in a towering rage when he started. It isn't fair to inflict him on people—even on anyone as kind as yourself—in that state."
"I should never be afraid of him," Juliet said quietly. "I think I know—partly—what was the matter. Someone made a rather cruel remark about him, and someone else maliciously repeated it. Then he was angry—very angry—and lost his self-control, and I suppose more cruel things were said. And then he came here—he asked me—he actually asked me—if I was sure I didn't mind him!"
A deep light was shining in her eyes as she ended, and an answering gleam came into Green's as he met them.
"I know," he said, in a low voice. "It's infernally hard for him, poor chap! But it doesn't do to let him know we think so. As long as he lives, he's got to bear his burden."
"But it needn't be made heavier than it is," Juliet said. "No, it needn't. But it isn't everyone that sees it in that light. I'm glad you do anyway, and I'm grateful—on Robin's behalf. Good-bye!"
He lifted his hand again in a farewell salute, and turned away.
Juliet watched him go, watched keenly as he approached Robin, saw the boy's quick glance at him as he took him by the arm and led him to the gate. A few seconds later they passed her on the other side of the hedge evidently on their way to the shore, and she heard Robin's voice as they went by.
"I'm—sorry now, Dicky," he said.
She turned her head to catch his brother's answer, for it did not come immediately and she wondered a little at the delay.
Then, as they drew farther away, she heard Green say, "Why do you say that?"