As Esterbrook turned one of them he saw Magdalen standing out on the point of the next , a short distance away . Her back was towards him , and her splendid figure was outlined darkly against the vivid sky . Esterbrook sprang from his horse and left the animal standing by itself while he walked swiftly out to her . His heart throbbed suffocatingly . He was conscious of no direct purpose save merely to see her . She turned when he reached her with a slight start of surprise . His footsteps had made no sound on the tide-rippled sand . For a few moments they faced each other so , eyes burning into eyes with mute soul-probing and questioning . The sun had disappeared , leaving a stain of fiery red to mark his grave ; the weird , radiant light was startlingly vivid and clear . Little crisp puffs and flakes of foam scurried over the point like elfin things . The fresh wind , blowing up the bay , tossed the lustrous rings of hair about Magdalen 's pale face ; all the routed shadows of the hour had found refuge in her eyes . Not a trace of colour appeared in her face under Esterbrook Elliott 's burning gaze . But when he said `` Magdalen ! '' a single , hot scorch of crimson flamed up into her cheeks protestingly . She lifted her hand with a splendid gesture , but no word passed her lips . `` Magdalen , have you nothing to say to me ? '' he asked , coming closer to her with an imploring passion in his face never seen by Marian Lesley 's eyes . He reached out his hand , but she stepped back from his touch . `` What should I have to say to you ? '' `` Say that you are glad to see me . ''
`` I am not glad XXXXX see you .
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