He could see refusal in her face; then all at once she gave in.
"Very well." But her steps dragged as she followed him down to the sands, and her face had not regained its color.
Feathers was racking his brains for means whereby to disperse the suspicion which he knew was in her mind. He was cursing Chris with all his heart, even while he was level-headed enough to guess that in all probability his friend's meeting with Mrs. Heriot was entirely one of chance. When they were near enough he called out to them cheerily:
"Now, then, you two, it's breakfast time, so hurry! Mrs. Lawless and I have been right along to the headland."
It was not the truth, but Marie hardly noticed what he said; she 99 was trying desperately to recover her composure and face Mrs. Heriot with a smile.
They walked back to the hotel, the two men behind.
"I am so sorry we are leaving, now it has really come to the point," Marie said. She kept her hands clenched in the pockets of the little woolly coat she wore; she wondered if the elder woman could hear the hardness of her voice.
"I'm ever so sorry, too," Mrs. Heriot said gushingly. "It's the worst of an hotel, isn't it? As soon as one gets to like people they leave."
"One can always meet them again," Marie said deliberately. She was wondering desperately if Chris had already made some such arrangement with this woman.
Mrs. Heriot smiled enigmatically.