“We both know what that means,” said she, anticipating his definition of wisdom so far as Harold was concerned.
“We do,” said Edmund. “If he has not shown himself to be wise in this way, he has not shown himself to be a fool in another way.”
“I suppose he has not,” said she, thoughtfully.
“Great heavens! you don’t mean to think that—”
“That he has told Beatrice Avon that he loves her? No, I don’t fancy that he has, still—”
“Still?”
“Well, I thought that, on their return from that awful seal-hunt, I saw a change in both of them. It seemed to me that—that—well, I don’t quite know how I should express it. Haven’t you seen a thirsty look on a man’s face?”
“A thirsty look? I believe I have seen it on a woman’s face.”
“It may be the same. Well, Harold Wynne’s face wore such an expression for days before the seal-hunt—I can’t say that I noticed it on Beatrice Avon’s face at the same time; but so soon as they returned from the boats on that evening, I noticed the change on Harold’s—perhaps it was only fancy.”
“I am inclined to believe that it was fancy. In my belief none of us was quite the same after that wild cruise. I was beside Miss Avon all the time that we were sailing out to the caves, and though she and Harold were in the boat together, yet Lord Innisfail and Durdan were in the same boat also. I can’t see how they could have had any time for an understanding while they were engaged in looking after the seals.”