"I am very sleepy, Margarita," he said, "and I don't care to walk back to the village directly, since it would do no especial good. I think I will take a little nap on the beach, if you don't mind, and then I'll go to the village and get help to—to do the various things that must be done. Later I will have a talk with you. Tell me once again—you do not know of any friends or relatives of your father's or Hester's?"
She shook her head, carelessly but definitely.
"Does Caliban?"
But this question was beyond the poor lout's intelligence; he could only blubber and fend off possible chastisement.
"Take another nap, if you can, Margarita," said Roger, "and I will go to the beach. Call me if you want me."
She went off to her warm straw, threw herself on it like a tired child, and passed quickly into a deep sleep; he tramped for a moment on the beach, then stretched himself in the lee of a sun-warmed rock and fell into the dreamless, renewing rest that he took as his simple due from nature.
