were bright, his face, browned by the sun, was
fresh and rested. There was not a line of care or thought on his
forehead. The young girl felt that she was flushing with anger. He saw
her colour, and took it for a sign of shyness. He made a sort of
apologetic movement of the head and shoulders towards her which was not
exactly a bow--for to an Englishman's mind a bow is almost a
familiarity--but which expressed a kind of vague desire not to cause any
inconvenience.

The colour deepened a little in Clare's face, and then disappeared. She
found something to say to her mother, on her other side, which it would
hardly have been worth while to say at all under ordinary circumstances.
Mrs. Bowring had glanced at the man while he was taking his seat, and
her eyebrows had contracted a little. Later she looked furtively past
her daughter at his profile, and then stared a long time at her plate.
As for him, he began to eat with conscious strength, as healthy young
men do, but he watched his opportunity for doing or saying anything
which might lead to a first acquaintance.

To tell the truth, however, he was in no hurry. He knew how to make
himself comfortable, and it was an important element in his comfort to
be seated next to the only persons in the place with whom he should care
to associate. That point being gained, he was willing to wait for
whatever was to come afterwards. He did not expect in any case to gain
more than the chance of a little pleasant conversation, and he was not
troubled by any youthful desire to shine in the eyes of the fair girl
beside whom he found himself, beyond the natural wish to appear well
before women in general, which modifies the conduct of all natural and
manly young men when women are present at all.

As the meal proceeded, however, he was surprised to find that no
opportunity presented itself for exchanging a word with his neighbour.
He had so often found it impossible to avoid speaking with strangers at
a public table that he had taken the probability of some little incident
for granted, and caught himself glancing surreptitiously at Clare's
plate to see whether there were nothing wanting which he might offer
her. But he could not think of anything. The fried sardines were
succeeded by the regulation braised beef with the gluey brown sauce
which grows in most foreign hotels. That, in its turn, was followed by
some curiously dry slices of spongecake, each bearing a bit of pink and
white sug