"I daresay we shall find his footsteps and be able to guess which way he went." "Very likely," Folco answered.
He pushed back his tweed cap a little and passed his handkerchief across his smooth brow.

Aurora noticed the action, because he did not usually get warm so easily.
"Are you hot ?" she asked carelessly.
"A little," he answered.

"The air is so heavy this morning." "Perhaps you are not quite well," said Aurora.

"You are a little pale." Apparently something in her youthfully patronising tone came as near irritating him as anything ever could.
"What does it matter, whether I am hot or not ?" he asked, almost impatiently, and again he passed his handkerchief over his forehead.
"I did not mean to annoy you," Aurora answered with uncommon meekness.
They came near the break in the bank, and she looked at the sand on each side of her.

She thought it seemed smoother than usual, and that there were not so many little depressions in it, where there had been footsteps on previous days, half obliterated by wind and rain.
"I cannot see where you and I passed an hour ago," she said, in some surprise.
"The wind draws through the gap with tremendous strength," Folco explained.