A warm flush mounted to her face as the unbidden thought crept into her mind. Errington had been down at Crailing most of the summer, staying at Red Gables, and during the long, lazy days they had spent together, motoring, or sailing, or tramping over Dartmoor with the keen moorland air, like sparkling wine, in their nostrils, it seemed as though a deeper note had sounded than merely that of friendship. And yet he had said nothing, although his eyes had spoken--those vivid blue eyes which sometimes blazed with a white heat of smouldering passion that set her heart racing madly within her. She flinched shyly away from her own thoughts, pulling restlessly at the dried weed which clung about the surface of the rock. A little brown crab ran out from a crevice, and, terrified by the big human hand which he espied meddling with the clump of weed and threatening to interfere with the liberty of the subject, skedaddled sideways into the safety of another cranny. The hurried rush of the little live thing roused Diana from her day-dreams, and looking up, she saw Max coming to her across the sands. She watched the proud, free gait of the tall figure with appreciation in her eyes. There was something very individual and characteristic about Max's walk--a suggestion as of immense vitality held in check, together with a certain air of haughty resolution and command. "I thought I might find you here," he said, when they had shaken hands. "Did you want me?" He looked at her with a curious expression in his eyes. "I always want you, I think," he said simply. "Well, you seem to have a faculty for always turning up when _I_ want _you_," she replied. "I was just thinking how often you had appeared in the very nick of time. Seriously"--her voice took on a graver note--"I feel I can't ever repay you.--you've come to my help so often." "There is a way," he said, very low, and then fell silent. "Tell me," she urged him, smilingly. "I like to pay my debts." He made no answer, and Diana, suddenly nervous and puzzled, continued a little breathlessly:-- "Have I--have I offended you? I--I thought"--her lips quivered--"we had agreed to be friends." Max was silent a moment. Then he said slowly:-- "I can't keep that compact." Diana's heart contracted with a sudden fear. "Can't keep it?" she repeated dully. She could not picture her life--no--robbed of this friendship! "No." His hands hung clenched at his sides, and he stood staring at her from beneath bent brows, his mouth set in a straight line. It was as though he were holding himself under a rigid restraint, against which something within him battled, striving for release. All at once his control snapped. "I love you! . . . God in heaven! Haven't you guessed it?" The words broke from him like a bitter cry--the cry of a heart torn in twain by love and thwarted longing. Diana felt the urgency of its demand thrill through her whole being. "Max . . ."