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 to see you . You have no right to come here . But I knew you would come . '' `` You knew it ? How ? '' `` Your eyes told me so today . I am not blind -- I can see further than those dull fisher folks . Yes , I knew you would come .
That is why I came here tonight -- so that you would find me alone and I could tell you that you were not XXXXX come again . ''
by from in into of so than that to with