unfamiliar was the abashment, or perhaps physical weariness, that
led the young man to sink back in the warm sand with a sigh of
relief. She noted that, for the first time, the audacity was gone
from his eyes.

"I watched your race," she began. "It was very exciting and I
cheered for you."

He smiled quietly.

"What made you keep on after the ship started? I should have given
up--and cried."

"I never give up anything that I want," he said.

"Have you never been forced to? Then it is because you are a man.
Women have to sacrifice a great deal."

Helen expected him to continue to the effect that he would never
give her up--it was in accordance with his earlier presumption--
but he was silent; and she was not sure that she liked him as well
thus as when he overwhelmed her with the boldness of his suit. For
Glenister it was delightful, after the perils of the night, to
rest in the calm of her presence and to feel dumbly that she was
near. She saw him secretly caress a fold of her dress.

If only she had not the memory of that one night on the ship.
"Still, he is trying to make amends in the best way he can," she
thought. "Though, of course, no woman could care for a man who
would do such a thing." Yet she thrilled at the thought of how he