The girl, ladylike and modest, and full of contrition for her former misdeeds, was yet possessed by a mischievous impulse to find out whether her power over the burly, youthful, excitable Agapit extended to this thinner, more serious-looking man, with the big black mustache and the shining eye-glasses.
"Ah, fanatic, Acadien imbecile," she said, coolly extending her fingers, "I am glad to see you again."
Though her tone was reassuring, Agapit still seemed to be overcome by some emotion, and for a few seconds did not recover himself. Then he smiled, looked relieved, and, taking a step nearer her, bowed profoundly. "When did you arrive, mademoiselle?"
"But you knew I was here," she said, gaily, "I saw it in your face when you first appeared."
Agapit dropped his eyes nervously. "He is certainly terribly afraid of me," reflected Bidiane again; then she listened to what he was saying.
"The Bay whispers and chatters, mademoiselle; the little waves that kiss the shores of Sleeping Water take her secrets from her and carry them up to the mouth of the Weymouth River—"
"You have a telephone, I suppose," said Bidiane, in an eminently practical tone of voice.
"Yes, I have," and he relapsed into silence.
"Here we are together, we three," said Bidiane, impulsively. "How I wish that Mr. Nimmo could see us."