And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl (who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was profoundly sad. You dear, dear girl. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly.
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