She caught sight of a white skiff, lying in the water close to the bank. As he had predicted, the final descent was a decided scramble, but he held her up until the mossy bank was reached; and would have held her longer, but with a little breathless laugh she released herself. "My shoes are ruined," she remarked. As they were of light grey suède, and the precipitous path they had travelled was a mixture of clay and limestone the ruin was palpable and very thorough. Dick surveyed them with compunction. "I say, they're wet through! You must take them off at once. Get into the boat!" "No, no!" She laughed again with more assurance. "I am not going to take them off. We couldn't dry them if I did, and I should never get them on again. Do you think we ought to get into the boat? Suppose the owner came along?" "The owner? Lord Saltash, do you mean?" He scoffed at the idea. "Do you really imagine he would come within a hundred leagues of the place on such a day as this. No, he is probably many salt miles away in that ocean-going yacht of his. Lucky dog!" "Oh, do you envy him?" she said. He gave her a shrewd glance. "Not in the least. He is welcome to his yacht--and his Lady Jo--and all that is his." "Dick!" She made a swift gesture of repudiation. "Please don't repeat that--scandal--again!" He raised his brows with a faintly ironical smile. "Are you still giving her the benefit of the doubt?" he said. "I imagine no one else does." The colour went out of her face. She stood quite motionless, looking not at him but at a whirl of dancing gnats on the gold-flecked water beyond him. "She went to Paris," she said, in the tone of one asserting a fact that no one could dispute. "So did he," said Green. "The yacht went round to Bordeaux to pick him up afterwards. I understand that he was not alone." She turned on him in sudden anger. "Why do you repeat this horrible gossip? Where do you hear it?" He held out his hand to her. "Juliet, I repeat it, because I want you to know--you have got to know--that she is unworthy of your friendship, and--you shall never touch pitch with my consent. I have heard it from various sources,--from Ashcott, from the agent here, Bishop, and others. My dear, you have always known her for a heartless flirt. You broke with her because she jilted the man she was about to marry. Now that she has gone to another man, surely you have done with her!" He spoke without anger, but with a force and authority that carried far more weight. Juliet's indignation passed. But she did not touch the outstretched hand, and in a moment he bent and took hers. "Now I've made you furious," he said. She looked at him somewhat piteously, assaying a smile with the lips that trembled. "No, I am not furious. Only--when you talk like that you make me--rather uneasy. You see, Lady Jo and I have always been--birds of a feather."