Craig looked at the sea.
"They're asleep," the girl said quickly. "They won't ever know."
Craig said nothing.
"Please," the girl begged.
Craig sat in silence. He was a big man with a great thatch of black hair and hard gray eyes. He was clad in a pair of torn duck trousers. Rolled bottoms revealed bare feet. He wore no shirt. Holstered on his belt was a heavy pistol.
"Look, big boy," the girl cajoled. "Me and you could get along all right."
"What makes you think so?" Craig questioned.
This was apparently not the answer she had expected. She seemed to be startled. For a moment her eyes measured the man.
"You've been looking for something that you wanted very badly," she said. "You haven't found it. Because you haven't found it, you have become bitter."
Her words made Craig uncomfortable. They came too close to the truth. He shifted his position on the seat.