XVIII
For a long while, seated on either side of the slumbering puppy, they remained silent, in fascinated contemplation of what they had rescued.
Finally Gray said slowly: "It may seem odd to you that I should be so firm and uncompromising concerning my right to a very small dog which may be duplicated in the North for a few dollars."
She lifted her brown eyes to his, then let them fall again on the dog.
"The reason is this," said Gray. "The native dogs I dislike intensely. Dogs imported from the North soon die in this region. But this little pup was evidently born on shipboard and on tropical seas. I think he's very likely to survive the climate. And as I am obliged to reside here for a[161] while, and as I am to live all alone, this pup is a godsend to me."
The girl, still resting her eyes on the sleeping puppy, said very quietly:
"I do not desire to appear selfish, but a girl is twice as lonely as a man. And as I fortunately first discovered the dog it seems to me absolutely right and just that I should keep him."
Gray sat pouring sand through his fingers and casting an occasional oblique glance at the girl. She was not sunburned, so she must be a recent arrival. She spoke with a northern accent, which determined her origin.
What was she doing down here on this absurd island? Why didn't she go back to St. Augustine where she belonged?