“Cynthia’s probably down at the tennis courts with Douglas,” Freddie assured him. “I saw them go off together in that direction. Miss Cressage went away by herself some time ago, towards the shore—over yonder.”
Westenhanger nodded his thanks curtly and descended the steps leading down into the gardens. He sauntered along while he was within range of Freddie’s eyes, but as soon as he got out of sight of the door, he quickened his steps. Ten minutes brought him to a spot from which he could see the nearer coastline, and, looking from point to point, he at last detected a girl’s figure on a tiny headland which ran out to form one horn of the bay.
He made his way indirectly towards her, and before he reached the ridge of the headland he slackened his pace, so that when he actually came into her neighbourhood he seemed to have arrived there by pure chance in the course of an aimless walk. He wished, above everything, to avoid giving her the impression that he had deliberately sought her out; for the test he meant to apply depended for its success on her being completely off her guard. He had not the slightest doubt as to the result, but his scientific caution demanded that he should play his game with absolute fairness. If the test was to establish anything whatever, it would have to be applied without fear or favour.
As he drew nearer he tried to read something from her attitude. She faced the sea, and from time to time he saw her glance along the horizon, only to look down again when her eyes found nothing but the skyline.
“That girl’s got a bit of personality somewhere,” Westenhanger reflected, as he advanced. “Every line of her figure shows some emotion, just as clearly as if I were looking at her face. But what particular emotion is it? She looks dejected, but that isn’t everything. There’s something else there as well.”
Enlightenment flashed across him.
“That’s the way Robinson Crusoe might have looked when he was hoping for a sail and yet felt certain it wasn’t coming that day. It’s hope deferred that’s wrong with that girl. But what’s she hoping for?”
By this time he had come quite close to her, and at the sound of his steps on the turf she turned her head.
“Not disturbing you, I hope?” he said, casually, as he came up. “I came up to have a look at the view for a moment or two. May I sit down?”
She nodded assent, seeming to accept his company with indifference. He seated himself a couple of yards away and for some minutes he gazed over the bay without saying anything.