"There is no one to see," he answered, with a cautious look about him. "What a timid little mouse it is!" He ran his hand up the loose sleeve of her blouse and caressed her elbow with his fingers. "Your skin is like satin," he said, and smiled into her shrinking eyes. "You mustn't be angry with me, Blanche. I have a very great affection for you. And I want you to be very happy with us,--I want you to consider yourself as one of the family. What would you say to my adopting you?" "That you are talking nonsense," she answered. He laughed quietly. "I'll adopt you informally," he said. "We needn't particularise the relationship,--only you must understand that it places me in authority. We will start with the order for sea-bathing. To-morrow I give you your first swimming lesson." She made no verbal response to this. With her disengaged hand she played nervously with the sand, piling it in small heaps, and scattering these to pile them anew. He watched her in idle amusement. "She is going to be good," he murmured. "I think," Blanche said abruptly, "I ought to go in now. The children will be in bed." "They are asleep," he replied. "You know quite well you aren't wanted. There is half an hour yet before we need bother about returning. Talk to me, you silent person. Give me the benefit of all those repressed thoughts of yours. Whenever I watch you, you are always dreaming. Do you never tell your dreams?" "They aren't worth telling," she answered coldly, with difficulty restraining a desire to cry. She wanted to beg him to desist from tormenting her, to leave her alone, to ignore her as he used to do. This persistent persecution worried her. She was no match for a man of his years and ripe experience. She was attracted by his personality, and at the same time afraid of him, a dangerous combination of emotions for a girl of twenty-two. "I would like to judge that for myself," he said. "I incline to believe I should find those day dreams interesting. Is it love you think about so much?" "No," she answered bluntly. "Love doesn't come my way. I have no time for it." "It seems to me," he said, "that it comes very much your way... You are turning your shoulder on it now. Come! let me see your face--dear." "You must not talk to me like that," Blanche exclaimed with sudden passion. "You would not dare if your wife were here." "My wife!" he echoed, and laughed. "Thank God! she isn't here. I don't want any one just now but you,--you, with the sea and the salt wind and that delicious shy look in your eyes... You aren't angry, really? I so want to enjoy my holiday--here with you. I don't believe you are angry, but I think you are a little afraid of me."