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Updated: June 4, 2025
He did not understand. He was as far from reading the riddle as he had been when he entered. But his love for this woman conquered his desire. He had thought to win an empire. He left the room a beaten slave. Men said that Bernard Merefleet, the gold-king, was curiously changed when once more he went among them.
She grew almost silent till lunch was over, and then, recovering, she entered into a sprightly conversation with Merefleet. They went down to the shore shortly after, and embarked in Quiller's boat. Mab sat in the stern under a scarlet sunshade and talked gaily to her two companions. She was greatly amused when Merefleet insisted upon doing his share of the work.
She beckoned him to speak to her. "Come here if you aren't afraid of babies!" she said, displaying her charge. "Look at him, Big Bear! He's three weeks old to-day. Isn't he fine?" "What do you know about babies?" said Merefleet, with his eyes on her lovely flushed face. She nodded in her sprightly fashion, but her eyes were far away on the distant horizon, and her soul with them.
"My dear girl, you will never make a social ornament of me as long as you live," he said. And Mab patted his arm affectionately. "You're nicer as you are, dear boy," she said. "You aren't smart, it's true, but I give you the highest mark for real niceness." Seton's eyes met Merefleet's for a second. There was a touch of uneasiness about him, as if he feared Merefleet might misconstrue something.
He drew her down on to it and turned round himself so that his back was towards the storm. He was thus able to shelter her in some measure from the full fury of the blast. Mab shrank against him, terrified and quivering. "It looks so angry," she said. "Don't be afraid!" said Merefleet. And he put his arms about her and held her close to him as if she had been a little child afraid of the dark.
But in the foreground of his picture, beyond desire and more marvellous than imagination, was the face of the loveliest woman he had ever seen. There was no wandering alone on the quay for Merefleet that night. It was very warm and he sat on the terrace with his American friend.
He even fancied he resented her freedom. But the girl only laughed carelessly. She had not the smallest intention of moving. "Well," she said, and he imagined momentarily that her abominable accent was deliberately assumed. "I guess you've heard it now, Mr. Bernard Merefleet. Smart, I call it. What's your opinion?" Merefleet started a little at the audacity of this speech.
A dismal outlook in truth. Moreover it was beginning to rain. Mab sheltered herself under her sunshade and began to laugh. "It's just skittles to what it might be," she said consolingly. But Merefleet did not respond. He knew that the wind was rising with every second, and already the little boat tipped and tossed with perilous buoyancy. Mab still held the rudder-lines.
I have tried to persuade myself into thinking you want nothing but ordinary friendship. I should infinitely prefer to think that if you can assure me that I am justified in so doing." "What is it to you?" said Merefleet. "To me personally it is more a matter of family honour than anything else. Moreover I am her sole protector, and as such I am bound to assert a certain amount of authority."
She was always busy in and out of the fishermen's cottages, where she was welcomed as an angel to and fro on a hundred schemes, all equally interesting and equally absorbing. And Merefleet was called upon to assist. She singled him out for her friendship because he was as one apart and without interests. She drew him into her own bubbling life. She laughed at him, consulted him, enslaved him.
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