face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that
there was sadness in her eyes.

"It didn't frighten me away," she said.

"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now,"
said Hugh Durant quietly.

She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest.
Then, changing her mind, she remained silent.

"Yes," he said. "Please say it!"

She shook her head without speaking.

But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity.

"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked.

She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side,
looking down at him.

"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically.

He laughed rather drearily.

"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said.

And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly
turned the conversation.

Later, when he took his leave, he stood on her step and looked out to
the long, grey line of sea with a faint, dissatisfied frown on his face.

"You're not afraid--living here?" he asked her at the last moment.

"What is there to fear?" said Molly. "I have Caesar, and there are other
cottages not far away."

"Yes, I know," he said. "But at night--when it's dark--"

A sudden glory shone in the girl's pure eyes.

"Oh, no, sir," she said. "I am not afraid."

And he departed, hobbling with difficulty up the long, sandy slope.

At the top he paused and looked out over the grey, unquiet sea. The
dissatisfaction on his face had given place to perplexity and a faint,
dawning wonder that was like the birth of Hope.

* * *

During the long summer days that followed, that strange friendship,
begun at the moment when Hugh Durant's life had touched its lowest point
of suffering and misery, ripened into a curiously close intimacy.

The girl was his only visitor--the only friend who penetrated behind the
barrier of loneliness that he had erected for himself. He had sought the
place sick at heart and utterly weary of life, desiring only to be left
alone. And yet, oddly enough, he did not resent the intrusion of this
outsider, who had openly told him that she was sorry.

She visited him occasionally at his hermitage, but more frequently she
would seek him out in his summer-house and take possession of him there
with a winning enchantment that he made no effort to resist. Sometimes
she brought him tea there; sometimes she persuaded him