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It may have been that, at the moment, I was in love with Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley for at Marois Bay, in the summer, a man who is worth his salt is more than equal to three love affairs simultaneously but anyway, she left me cold. Not one thrill could she awake in me. She was small and, to my mind, insignificant. Some men said that she had fine eyes.
The shore around Marois Bay is full of them. By this time the afternoon sun had begun to be too warm for comfort, and it struck Wilton that he could be a great deal more comfortable nursing his wounded heart with his back against one of the rocks than tramping any farther over the sand. Most of the Marois Bay scenery is simply made as a setting for the nursing of a wounded heart.
They seemed to me just ordinary eyes. And her hair was just ordinary hair. In fact, ordinary was the word that described her. But from the first it was plain that she seemed wonderful with Wilton, which was all the more remarkable, seeing that he was the one man of us all who could have got any girl in Marois Bay that he wanted.
The only reason why anyone comes away from a summer at Marois Bay unbetrothed is because there are so many girls that he falls in love with that his holiday is up before he can, so to speak, concentrate. But in Wilton's case this was out of the question.
As this was exactly what Mary had done, she could not reasonably complain. So that concluded the conversation for the time being. She walked away in the direction of Marois Bay without another word, and presently he lost sight of her round a bend in the cliffs. His position now was exceedingly unpleasant.
Marois Bay is a quiet place even in the summer, and the Wilton tragedy was naturally the subject of much talk. It is a sobering thing to get a glimpse of the underlying sadness of life like that, and there was a disposition at first on the part of the community to behave in his presence in a manner reminiscent of pall-bearers at a funeral. But things soon adjusted themselves.
'Shall I come over? I sucked a pencil for a while, and then I wrote the reply. It was not an easy cable to word, but I managed it. 'No, I wrote, 'stay where you are. Profession overcrowded. When Jack Wilton first came to Marois Bay, none of us dreamed that he was a man with a hidden sorrow in his life.
The Chief of the Staff was Major-General Vuillemot; the Provost-General was Colonel Mora, and the principal aides-de-camp were Captains Marois and de Boisdeffre. Specially attached to the headquarters service there was a rather numerous picked force under General Bourdillon.
What took place at the interview I do not know; but it was swiftly perceived by Marois Bay that the Wilton-Campbell alliance was off. They no longer walked together, golfed together, and played tennis on the same side of the net. They did not even speak to each other. The rest of the story I can speak of only from hearsay. How it became public property, I do not know.
What Mary thought of him we did not know. She was one of those inscrutable girls. And so things went on. If it had not been that I knew Wilton's story, I should have classed the thing as one of those summer love-affairs to which the Marois Bay air is so peculiarly conducive.
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