"I apologize."
"Don't; you needn't. I wouldn't for the world interfere with your desperate business. I'm really quite happy here—alone."
"Alone—I think you said?" Ember inquired after a brief pause.
"Alone," Whitaker reiterated firmly.
"I'm glad you like the place."
"It's most attractive, really.... I say, who are the Fiskes, anyway?"
"Well ... the Fiskes are the people who own the next cottage."
"I know, but—"
"Oh, I never troubled to inquire; have a hazy notion Fiske does something in Wall Street." Ember passed smoothly over this flaw in his professional omniscience. "How did you happen to meet her?"
"Oh, mere accident. Over on the beach this morning. I slipped and hurt my ankle. She—ah—happened along and brought me home in her motor-boat."