As she stood, gazing almost childishly across the intervening water, she looked barely more than a schoolgirl; and her short skirt and simple white blouse aided the illusion. It was only the sight of the coils of black hair which bound her head, and the gleam of the gold wedding-ring on her finger, which placed her definitely in the category of womanhood; and the man who watched her felt a strange sensation of something like pity for the girl launched so early on the sea of matrimony, a sea whose perils he, of all men, had cause to dread.
But suddenly Toni became aware of the indecorousness of her conduct. It was the height of discourtesy to stand staring; and with a blush she called Jock and turned hastily away to retrace her steps.
The man and the dog watched her go; and only when she was nearly out of sight did they turn back and re-enter the little white bungalow which was known locally as the Hope House.
At breakfast Owen asked Toni kindly if she felt inclined for a day on the river.
"I thought we might take our lunch and go quite a long way," he said. "I'm afraid this must be our last holiday jaunt for a little time. I shall have to be busy after this."
"Will you?" She looked a trifle wistful; and Owen was sorry for her.
"Well, I daresay I can manage a day off now and then. To-morrow's Thursday, isn't it? I must be up in town then, and I'm afraid I shall be late home. There's a dinner I rather wanted to attend, but it would mean a long evening alone for you."
"I don't mind." She smiled reassuringly. "I've got Jock to keep me company and there are plenty of people in the house."
"Well, Andrews is a pretty sturdy young chap, and of course there are three or four women. There's the telephone, too, you know, so you really needn't be nervous—especially now, when the river is as full of traffic as Bond Street!"
"I'm not a bit nervous," she said. "I ... I was just wondering——"