“And never again refer to—to——”
“Um——”
“Then please come in—out of the wet.”
It was toward the end of August when the southeast wind had raised a gray and thunderous sea, that two persons sat under the lee of a rock near Great Head and watched the giant breakers shatter themselves to foam. They sat very close together, and the little they said was drowned in the roar of the elements. But they did not care. They were willing just to sit and watch the fruitless struggles of the swollen waters.
“Won’t you tell me,” said the girl at last, “about that dinner? Didn’t you really ask Mrs. Hollingsworth to send you in with me?”
The man looked amusedly off at the jagged horizon.
“No, I really didn’t,” he said, and then, after a pause, with a laugh: “but Nick did.”
“Whited sepulcher!” said the girl. Another pause. This time the man questioned: