“To live here alone! Can you conceive it?” Anne exclaimed.
“Not for one of us; but with so thin a population, solitude probably is second nature.”
“Solitude would require thought, and thought culture.”
“Work might take its place. Work here must be incessant. Relax it, and you die.”
“Why not? What makes it worth while to live? Would any one miss him?”
“Depend upon it, he has a world of his own, but, why—”
He stopped suddenly. Anne looked at him in surprise.
“Why?” she repeated.
He had caught himself on the point of rushing into more personal speech, and the jerk with which he pulled himself up made him awkward.
“Why should we not ask him? For one thing, I imagine he does not stay in winter. He is only here for the fishing.”