And the man's heart was dumb and heavy with the trouble he could not fathom.
Some hours later, returning from a weary tramp along the shore, he encountered Seton pacing to and fro on the terrace.
"She is better," he said, in answer to Merefleet's conventional enquiry.
"It was the heat, you know, that upset her." "Yes," said Merefleet quietly.

"I know." Seton walked away restlessly, more as if he wished to keep on the move than to avoid Merefleet.

He came back, however, after a few seconds.
"Look here, Merefleet," he said abruptly, "you may take offence, but you can't quarrel without my consent.

For Heaven's sake, leave this place! You are doing more mischief than you have the smallest notion of." There was that in his manner which roused the instinct of opposition in Merefleet.
"You will either tell me what you mean," he said, "or you need not expect to gain your point.

Veiled hints, like anonymous letters, do not deserve any man's serious consideration." Seton muttered something inaudible and became silent.
Merefleet waited for some moments and then began to move off.