She, too, was looking out now towards the sea.

"Oh, it isn't exactly that," she said quietly. "I am quite willing
to admit what all the tourists and chance visitors call the
fascination of these places. I happen to dislike them, that is all.
Perhaps it is because I live here, because I see them day by day;
perhaps because the sight of them and the thought of them have
become woven into my life."

She was talking half to herself. For a moment, even the knowledge
of his presence had escaped her. Hamel, however, did not realise
that fact. He welcomed her confidence as a sign of relaxation from
the frigidity of her earlier demeanour.

"That seems hard," he observed sympathetically. "It seems odd to
hear you talk like that, too. Your life, surely, ought to be
pleasant enough."

She looked away from the sea into his face. Although the genuine
interest which she saw there and the kindly expression of his eyes
disarmed annoyance, she still stiffened slightly.

"Why ought it?"

The question was a little bewildering.

"Why, because you are young and a girl," he replied. "It's natural
to be cheerful, isn't it?"

"Is it?" she answered listlessly. "I cannot tell. I have not had