...

After last night"-- the vivid tint grew in her face--"after such a night, is it not--natural--for a girl to creep off somewhere by herself and try to think a little ?" He had turned full on her; the answering colour crept to his forehead.
"Is that why ?" he asked slowly.
"Is it not a reason ?" "It was my reason--for being here." She bit her bright lip.

This trend to the conversation was ominous, and she had meant to do her drifting alone in still sun-dreams, fearing no witness, no testimony, no judgment save her own self in court with herself.
"I--I suppose you cannot go--now," she reflected innocently.
"Indeed I can, and must." "And leave me here to dig in the sand with my heels?
Merci!" "Do you mean--" "I certainly do, Mr.Siward.I don't want to dream, now; I don't care to reflect.

I did, but here you come blundering into my private world and upset my calculations and change my intentions! It's a shame, especially as you've been lying here doing what I wished to do for goodness knows how long!" "I'm going," he said, looking at her curiously.
"Then you are very selfish, Mr.Siward." "We will call it that," he said with an odd laugh.
"Very well." She seated herself on the sand and calmly shook out her skirts.
"About what time would you like to be called ?" he asked smilingly.
"Thank you, I shall do no sun-dreaming." "Please.

It is good for you." "No, it isn't good at all.