Many years ago when she broke her dolls he had tried to mend them and comfort her. And now, because he was a simple, manly gentleman, blessed with the precious gift of understanding—when she was feeling heart-broken he tried with all the old, generous affection to help to heal the wound, and bring her consolation.
And away on the southern shore, where a little fishing-village nestled in the cliffs, and a creeper-covered hotel awaited sleepily the coming of the summer and the summer visitors, Lorraine came to what she deemed her hour—the one great hour left—and, as a drowning man, caught at her straw. Two long perfect days they had spent on the sea, with an old fisherman, full of anecdote, and his young grandson to sail the boat.
Then came the dreamy twilight hour, and their utter loneness; and Alymer, with the strong, swift blood in his veins, and the strong lust of life in his heart, lost himself, as she meant that he should, in the intoxicating atmosphere of her charm and fascination.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
When Hal and her cousin emerged from the office the following Wednesday evening, the first thing Hal saw was Sir Edwin’s motor, and Sir Edwin himself standing waiting for her. A disengaged taxi was just moving off, having deposited a fare, and instantly, without a word to Dick, she sprang into it. Dick gave a sharp glance round and followed her.
“Tell him where to go,” she said.
He directed the chauffeur, and then looked anxiously into her face. She had turned very pale, and seemed for the moment overcome.
“Sir Edwin’s motor?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Shall I call for you every day?” he said at once.
“No. He can’t possibly see me if I go out the other way.” Then she added: “He won’t go on for long. He was there yesterday, but he did not see me; and after today I dare say he will give it up.”