Part 2 (2/2)
”Well, yes--up to a certain point. I shall get used to it in time, no doubt. But at present it seems a bit dull and slow.”
”You've lived in a city, perhaps?”--he was astonished at his boldness, but her whole manner seemed to invite conversation.
”That's just it,” she replied. ”And after New York this place seems a trifle dull and quiet.”
”I should think so,” he said, with a laugh. ”Why, even natives like myself find it almost insufferable at times.”
”Then why do you stay here? Why don't you go right away where the pulse of life beats more quickly?”
”Ah! that question is not easy to answer,” he said, looking out over the fire-flecked sea. ”Our home is here, our work lies here. Beyond is a great unknown. Many have gone out and have never returned.”
”Got lost, eh?” she questioned, with a musical laugh.
”Lost to us who have remained,” he answered. ”Some have prospered, I have no doubt. Some have failed, and died in obscurity and neglect.
Better, perhaps, endure the ills we have than fly to others we know not of.”
”Well, yes, I guess there's truth in that,” she answered, raising frankly her soft brown eyes to his. ”Yet there's always fascination in the unknown, don't you think so?”
”No doubt of it.”
”That's the reason, I expect, why I'm just aching to explore these cliffs, and the caves of which Sir Charles says there's any number.”
”That won't take you very long,” he answered, ”though it would hardly be safe for you to go alone.”
”That's what Sir Charles says; but would you mind telling me just where the danger comes in?”
”Well, you see, the rocks are often slippery. And if you are not acquainted with the tides you might get caught.”
”Ah! that would be interesting.”
”Well, scarcely. Strangers have been caught and drowned before now.”
”They could not swim?”
”It would take a very strong swimmer to clear St. Gaved Point and get into the harbour.”
She turned her eyes in that direction and looked grave.
He studied her face a little more closely and allowed his eyes to wander over her graceful and well-knit figure. She was very simply dressed, without ornament of any kind. A large picture hat shaded her pale face.
Her eyes were large and dark, her forehead broad, her nose straight, her lips full and red.
She caught him looking at her and he blushed a little. ”I don't think I could swim that distance,” she said, turning her eyes again in the direction of St. Gaved Point.
”I don't think you would be wise to attempt it.” Then he blushed again, for she turned on him a swift and searching glance, while her lips parted in a smile that seemed to say, ”I did not ask you for advice.”
For a moment there was silence, then she said, ”Do you know the sea has been calling me ever since I came.”
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