"
"Are you staying here alone together?" Merefleet enquired.
She nodded. "Bert is taking care of me," she explained. "He's like a son
to me. I call him my English bull-dog. I just love bull-dogs, Mr.
Merefleet."
Merefleet was silent.
She stretched out her arms with a swift, unconscious movement of
weariness.
"Well," she said, "I'm real lazy to-night, and that's fact. I guess you
want to smoke, so I'll go and leave you in peace."
She rose and stood for a few moments in the doorway, looking out into the
pulsing darkness beyond. Merefleet watched her, fascinated. And as he
watched, a deep shadow rose and lingered on the beautiful face. Moved by
an instinct he did not stop to question, he rose abruptly and stood
beside her. There was a pause. Then suddenly she looked up at him and the
shadow was gone.
"Isn't he cross?" she said.
"Who?" asked Merefleet.
"Why, that funny old sea," she laughed. "He's just wild to dash over and
swamp us all. Supposing he did, should you care any?"
"I don't know," said Merefleet.
Her eyes were full of a soft laughter as she looked at him. Suddenly she
laid a childish hand on his arm. "Oh, you poor old Bear!" she said,
dropping her voice a little. "I'm real sorry for you!"
And then she turned swiftly and was gone from his side like a flash of
sunlight.
CHAPTER IV
It was some time later that Merefleet entered the smoking-room to satisfy
a certain curiosity which had taken possession of him.
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