"What do you want?" she asked coldly.
In her cold eye Ambrose was conscious of a wall between them more impenetrable than granite. His heart gave up hope. "Nothing," he said sullenly.
"It's not exactly agreeable," she said, frowning, "to find oneself spied upon."
Ambrose started and frowned. This construction of his act had not occurred to him. "I saw Ginger from the river," he said indignantly. "I landed to find you."
"What did you want?" she asked coolly.
"I don't know," said Ambrose.
There was a silence between them. Her cold look told him to go. Pride and common sense both urged him to obey—but he could not. He was like a bit of iron filing in the presence of a magnet.
"I—I suppose I wanted to find out how you were," he said at last.
"Was that so extraordinary?"
She ignored the question. "I am well," she said.
"How is your father?" he asked.