She was instinctively aware of him as she had been of Julian. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. He figures them out, though. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned.
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