“I didn’t mean anything,” said he.
“Y’shouldn’t have said it, then,” said she.
“Well, I’m sorry—I take it back.”
She played with the dud dollar for a moment, tossing it, and catching it; then she put it into her pocket, uncrossed her legs, and lay flat; her chin resting on the back of her hands.
Her hat was off, lying beside her, and the quarrel with him was evidently over; she seemed plunged in reverie. Then he noticed that the eyes, upturned under their lashes, were steadfastly looking at him. Instantly they fell, and her position altered so that her face was hidden on her arm.
He lit his pipe and smoked for a moment in silence.
“Jude!”
No answer.
“What’s the matter with you?”
Silence. He remembered how she had shammed dead on Palm Island, put down his pipe, and crawled toward the corpse. It was rigid, and to revive it he began to pour sand on its head.