She experienced a curious sense of relief. "But you are not alone in the world," she pointed out. "You have relations."
"You regard marriage as a last resource?" questioned Nick.
She coloured and turned her face to the shore. "I don't think any man ought to marry unless—unless—he cares," she said, striving hard to keep the personal note out of her voice.
"Exactly," said Nick, moving beside her. "But doesn't that remark apply to women as well?"
She did not answer him. A discussion on this topic was the last thing she desired.
He did not press the point, and she wondered a little at his forbearance. She glanced at him once or twice as they walked, but his humorous, yellow face told her nothing.
Reaching some rocks, he suddenly stopped. "I've got to get some seaweed for Olga. Do you mind waiting?"
"I will help you," she answered.
He shook his head. "No, you are tired. Just sit down in the sun. I won't be long."
She seated herself without protest, and he turned to leave her. A few paces from her he paused, and she saw that he was trying to light a cigarette. He failed twice, and impulsively she sprang up.