“Where have you been?”
“To the Bay of Tai Wan.”
“Why did you go?”
The Breton, discovering in the crevice a little finger, did not answer.
“Oh, very well! I suppose you were glad. It must have been a great relief. I was getting tired.”
Heedlessly the Breton heard the stamp of her foot and contentedly waited, though no sound was heard but its restless, impatient tapping.
“Why did you go away?”
“I buried a man——”
“Did that take you all these weeks?”
“No—but——”