“It’s the short cut to High Shale,” he said.  “There is always the chance of meeting these fellows along here.  You’d be safer going the other way.”

“But I like the furze bushes and the nightingale,” she said regretfully, “and the exquisite wildness of it.  It is not nearly so nice the other way.”

He laughed.  “No, but it’s safer.  Come this way as much as you like in the morning, but go the other way at night!”

He turned with the words, and began to lead her down the path.  She went with him as one who responds instinctively to a power unquestioned.  The magic of the night was closing about her again.  She heard the voice of the nightingale thrilling through the silence.

“This is the most wonderful place I have ever seen,” she said at last in a tone of awe.

“Is it?” he said.

His lack of enthusiasm surprised her.  “Don’t you think so too?” she said.  “Doesn’t it seem wonderful to you?”

He glanced out to sea for a moment.  “You see I live here,” he said.  “Yes, it’s quite a beautiful place.  But it isn’t always like this.  It’s primitive.  It can be savage.  You wouldn’t like it always.”

“I’m thinking of settling down here all the same,” said Juliet.

He stopped short in the path.  “Are you really?”

She nodded with a smile.  “You seem surprised.  Why shouldn’t I?  Isn’t there room for one more?”

“Oh, plenty of room,” he said, and walked on again as abruptly as he had paused.

The path became wider and more level, and he relinquished her hand.  “You won’t stay,” he said with conviction.

“I wonder,” said Juliet.

“Of course you won’t!” A hint of vehemence crept into his speech.  “When the nightingales have left off singing, and the wild roses are over, you’ll go.”

“You seem very sure of that,” said Juliet.

“Yes, I am sure.”  He spoke uncompromisingly, almost contemptuously, she thought.

“You evidently don’t stay here because you like it,” she said.

“My work is here,” he returned noncommittally.  She wondered a little, but something held her back from pursuing the matter.  She walked several paces in silence.  Then, “I wish I could find work here,” she said, in her slow deep voice.  “It would do me a lot of good.”

“Would it?” He turned towards her.  “But that isn’t what you came for—­not to find work, I mean?”

“Well, no—­not primarily.”  She made the admission almost guiltily.  “But I think everyone ought to be able to earn a livelihood, don’t you?”

“It’s safer certainly,” he said.  “But it isn’t everyone that is qualified for it.”

“No?” Her voice was whimsical.  “And you think I shall seek in vain for any suitable niche here?”

“It depends upon what your capabilities are,” he said.

“My capabilities!” She laughed, a soft, low laugh.  “Columbus!  What are my capabilities!”