She was back at her castle, and at work again when the prince caught sight of her.
He stopped short, his unhasty mind slowly taking in the situation.
That she should be working in loneliness, thirty yards beyond the line of nurses and children along the beach, seemed too good to be true.
Presently his unhurrying mind grasped the fact that it was true; his heart blazed in his bosom; he threw back his head and, had his nose been larger, he would have sniffed the breeze like a warhorse.

He advanced upon her in a quick, shambling slouch.
Pollyooly saw his eager advance; but she affected not to see it.

She was eager for the fray, but fearful lest a display of that eagerness should dash the royal courage; moreover she wished the prince to be flagrantly the aggressor.

She worked at the farther wall of the castle with her back to him.

A fray was the last thing the prince looked for.
There had been but one fray in his sheltered life: with a brother prince carelessly admitted to his society.