"Take care of Betty a moment, Eileen darling! I shall be back directly." And with the words she was gone, like an arrow, in pursuit. He must have heard her feet upon the sand, but he did not turn. Perhaps his thoughts were elsewhere, for when at the quick pressure of her hand on his arm he paused to look at her, she saw that his eyes were very sad. "Well?" he said, with the glimmer of a smile. "Well,--Toinette?" She clasped her two hands upon his arm, holding it very tightly, her face uplifted. "Please--I want to thank you," she said breathlessly. "You have been--so very good." He shook his head. "I have done--nothing," he said. "Don't thank me!" She went on with nervous haste. "And it does make a difference to me. I--I--I'm glad I know, though it must have been--a great shock to you." "It would have been a much worse shock if it had been anyone else," he said. "Would it? How nice of you!" Her lip trembled. "Well then, I'm glad it wasn't." She began to walk on with him. "Do you mind telling me--did you--did you--forgive her?" "Yes," he said very quietly. A quick shiver went through her. "Then I must too," she said. "At least--I must try. She--she--I loved her once, you know, before I began to understand." "Everyone loved her," he said. "But life is very difficult, isn't it?" she urged rather tremulously. "Your life has been," he said. She nodded. "One can't help--can't help--making mistakes--even bad ones--sometimes." "You've just made one," he said. She faced him valiantly. "Ah, but you don't understand. You--you can't throw away--what you've never had, can you--can you?" "What you've got," he corrected gravely. "Yes, you can." She flung out her hands with a wide gesture. "But I haven't got it! I never had it! He took me out of pity. He never--pretended to love me." "No," said Larpent, with grim certitude. "He isn't pretending this time." She stared at him, wide-eyed, motionless. "Not pretending? What do you mean? Please--what do you mean?" He held out his hand. "Good-bye!" he said abruptly. "I mean--just that." Her lips were parted to say more, but something in his face or action checked her. She put her hand into his. "Good-bye!" she said. He held her hand for a moment, then, moved by some hint of forlornness in the clear eyes, he bent, as he had bent at the Castle on that summer evening weeks before, and lightly touched her forehead with his lips. "Oh, that's nice of you," said Toby quickly. "Thank you for that." "Don't thank me for anything!" said Larpent. "Play a straight game, that's all!" And with the words he left her finally, striding away over the sand with that careless sailor's gait of his, gazing always far ahead of him out to the dim horizon. Perhaps as long as he lived his look would never again dwell upon anything nearer. CHAPTER X IN THE NAME OF LOVE