While one might have counted ten, Katrine stood, motionless, almost without breath, gazing deep into the strange man's eyes, then with the wrench of physical effort, she turned aside, and slipped her hand through Mrs Mannering's arm. "Come! Let us go!" They walked on. Vernon Keith on one side, Mrs Mannering on the other, large, gaunt, protective, her arm gripping the girl's hand to her grey alpaca side. Katrine loved her for that grip, but her mind was still engrossed in visualising the figure of a tall man, thin, yet broad, of a tanned face, and light grey eyes. The glare from the sand seemed of a sudden to have become monstrous, unbearable. She felt a tired longing for the cool white deck. "How soon can we go back? How long will those--sweeps--take over their work?" "Not long," Vernon said. "They are incredibly quick. Three hours for a matter of eight or nine hundred tons. We will go to the hotel and get something to drink. Has the sun been too much for you? You look so suddenly tired." Beneath her breath Mrs Mannering grunted disgust at the blindness of man. When the hotel was reached, and she and Katrine sat alone for a few minutes waiting the arrival of drinks, she looked at the girl with a kindly twinkle and said abruptly: "No need to take it to heart, my dear. Your own fault! You were worth looking at, and he looked--that's all! A cat may look at a king." Katrine smiled faintly. "Yes--of course. Stupid of me. But there was something in his eyes that--startled! Did you ever have that curious feeling on meeting a stranger? Not recognition--it's more like expectation--as if he _mattered_!" Mrs Mannering grunted again. "I know a fool when I see him, and an honest man. I know when to be civil, or to give a wide berth. Common-sense, I call it; not curious at all. Rather a fine figure, that man! You'd make a good pair. I've been thinking, you know, he might be that friend who is coming on board... Eh, what?" To her surprise Katrine violently resented the suggestion. "Oh, _no_!" she cried loudly. "I am sure he is not. Captain Bedford will be quite different." A look almost of fear flitted over her face. "I'm quite sure it was not he!" Mrs Mannering shrugged her shoulders, "Well! have it your own way. If I were a pretty, unattached female, and was introduced to that man as my travelling companion, I should feel I was in for a good time! On the other hand, if you were a bride, my dear, I'd stick to you like glue, out of sympathy for the poor man waiting his turn..." Katrine hesitated, fighting an impulse which prompted her to confide in this kind, shrewd woman, to confess the real object of her journey, and secure her help and counsel. The words trembled on her lip; another second and they would have found speech; then the door opened and Vernon Keith appeared, followed by a waiter bearing refreshments. The opportunity was past. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.