"How do you do?" she said, mechanically, and would have passed him. But he stood in her path. As he stared at her an impulse of rage ran through him, resenting the wreck of anything so beautiful—rage against Ashe, who must surely be somehow responsible.
"Aren't you wandering too far, Lady Kitty?" His voice shook under the restraint he put upon it. "You seem tired—very tired—and you are perhaps farther from your gondola than you think."
"I am not tired."
He hesitated.
"Might I walk with you a little, or do you forbid me?"
She said nothing, but walked on. He turned and accompanied her. One or two questions that he put to her—Had she companions?—Where had she left her gondola?—remained unanswered. He studied her face, and at last he laid a strong hand upon her arm.
"Sit down. You are not fit for any more walking."
He drew her towards some logs of driftwood on the upper sand, and she sank down upon them. He found a place beside her.