the golden warmth.

She had just established herself on a big, sun-warmed boulder when
a familiar step sounded on the bridge and Dan Storran's tall figure
emerged into view. He pulled up sharply as he caught sight of her, his
face taking on a schoolboy look of embarrassment. Deauville _plage_,
where people bathed in companionable parties and strolled in and out of
the water as seemed good to them, was something altogether outside Dan's
ken.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he began, flushing uncomfortably.

Magda waved to him airily.

"You needn't be. I'm having a sun-bath. You can stay and talk to me if
you like. Or are you too busy farming this morning?"

"No, I'm not too busy," he said slowly.

There was a curious dazzled look in his eyes as they rested on her.
Sheathed in the stockingette bathing-suit she wore, every line and curve
of her supple body was revealed. Her wet, white limbs gleamed pearl-like
in the quivering sunlight. The beauty of her ran through his veins like
wine.

"Then come and amuse me!" Magda patted the warm surface of the rock
beside her invitingly. "You can give me a cigarette to begin with."

Storran sat down and pulled out his case. As he held a match for her to
light up from, his hand brushed hers and he drew it away sharply. It was
trembling absurdly.

He sat silent for a moment or two; then he said with an odd abruptness:

"I suppose you find it frightfully dull down here?"

Magda laughed a little.

"Is that because I told you to come and amuse me? . . . No, I don't find
it dull. Change is never really dull."

"Well, you must find it change enough here from the sort of life you've
been accustomed to lead."

"How do you know what sort of life I lead?"--teasingly.

"I can guess. One has only to look at you. You're different--different
from everyone about here. The way you move--you're like a thoroughbred
amongst cart-horses." He spoke with a kind of sullen bitterness.

Magda drew her feet up on to the rock and clasped her hands round her
knees.

"Now you're talking nonsense, you know," she said amusedly. "Frankly,
I like it down here immensely. I happened to be--rather worried when
I came away from London, and there's something very soothing and
comforting about the country--particularly your lovely Devon country."

"Worried?" Storran's face darkened. "Who'd been worrying you?"

"Oh"--vaguely. "All sorts of things. Men--and women. But don't let's
talk about worries to-day. This glor