Well, if she would quarrel, I was ready; I had no patience with such tricks; they weary a man of sense; women serve their turn ill by using them.

Also I had done her some small service.

I would die sooner than call it to her mind, but it would have been a grace in her to remember it.
The afternoon came, grew to its height, and waned as I lay, back to sea and face to cliff, thinking now of all that had passed, now of what was before me, sparing a moment's fitful sorrow for the poor wretch who lay dead there by the cottage door, but returning always in resentful mood to my lost guinea and Barbara's sore lack of courtesy.

If she needed me, I was ready; but heaven forbid that I should face fresh rebuffs by seeking her! I would do my duty to her and redeem my pledge.

More could not now be looked for, nay, by no possibility could be welcome; to keep away from her was to please her best.