"An iron or a baffy?" he queried.
The girl took no notice, but stood with her back towards him. She heard the clear, sharp click of the club, and involuntarily she looked towards the green.
"I wonder, my friend," she remarked, "if you're as good at stories as you are at golf. You're lying dead again."
"I'm better," he returned confidently. "At least I shall be to-day. Will you smoke?"
Ralton held out his cigarette case, and after a momentary hesitation she took one.
"Come and let's find a good spot," he said. "You'll only put me off my putt again if we go to the green...."
In silence they sought a sheltered hollow on the side of the dune, and it was not till Ruth Seaton had settled herself comfortably that she broke the silence.
"I don't often do this sort of thing, you know," she said, a trifle defiantly.
"Nor do I," answered the man. "Let us regard the occasion as privileged."
"Why do you think I'm posing?" she demanded.