Julia was still unaware that Jennie, his partial confession apparently his years had in the Tower notwithstanding, ceased to ebb. was unaware that the matter had any great seriousness. Julia had her knowledge of his Jennie was in possession of former youth. his present one. Julia would walk through Jennie would do no less to keep flame to find him. him. One drop of comfort I found in the whole extravaganza, and one only. Jennie's naughtiness might reach extremes of civility, but so far at any rate Julia was tolerantly good-humoured about it. For she could hardly be unconscious of the--well, the bracing temperature of the atmosphere. But how long was that likely to last? Once more Derry seemed to have us all entangled in the web of his unique condition. Already my own surreptitious visits to him had made me feel little better than a slinking conspirator; the presence of Jennie's bicycle in that St Briac kitchen did not improve matters; and now, to cap all, Julia and I were to seek him out. Again I found myself weakly wishing that I could wash my hands of him. And again I knew that I could not. It seemed to me that there was nothing to do, not even anything to refrain from doing. The whole thing ran itself. It ran itself independently of any of us, as it had run itself with equal smoothness and efficiency whether Julia had stayed in England or had come over here. And I sat contemplating it, wrapped in her vivid cloak, wrapped in her lurid thoughts, my looks alternately seeing and avoiding her shape in the water, while the sun flashed on the grapes and apricots and oranges of that fruit-salad in the waves of St Enogat's plage. II They came out again, dripping, gleaming, Julia laughing, Jennie without a smile. "I'll wait here for you," I said to Julia as I replaced her wrap on her shoulders. "Right you are. Ten minutes. Come along, Jennie----" The billowing escholtzia-yellow and the closely-gathered white retreated up the beach again. In a quarter of an hour Julia returned alone. She sat down by my side. "Jennie wouldn't come. She's taken the things in. George," she suddenly demanded, "is that child in love?" I parried. "Is that a thing I should be very likely to know?" "Then I'll tell you. She is. All the signs--every one. She can't sit still in one place for five minutes. Poor little darling!" she smiled. "I remember _so_ well...." "Wouldn't it be better if you were to take a walk after your bathe?" "What about you? Sure it wouldn't be too much for you?" "I should like a walk." "Come along then. I suppose I did stay in as long as was good for me."