“I don’t see the old breakwater,” said Maisie, under her breath.
“Let’s be thankful that we have as much as we have. I don’t believe they’ve mounted a single new gun on the fort since we were here. Come and look.”
They came to the glacis of Fort Keeling, and sat down in a nook sheltered from the wind under the tarred throat of a forty-pounder cannon.
“Now, if Ammoma were only here!” said Maisie.
For a long time both were silent. Then Dick took Maisie’s hand and called her by her name.
She shook her head and looked out to sea.
“Maisie, darling, doesn’t it make any difference?”
“No!” between clenched teeth. “I’d—I’d tell you if it did; but it doesn’t, Oh, Dick, please be sensible.”
“Don’t you think that it ever will?”
“No, I’m sure it won’t.”