There was a kind of
arm of the sea put in; it went up some way, it wasn't the real sea, but
very quiet, like a river; that was more attractive to some. Doctor
Prance didn't say the place was picturesque, or quaint, or weird; but he
could see that was what she meant when she said it was mouldering away.
Even under the mantle of night he himself gathered the impression that
it had had a larger life, seen better days. Doctor Prance made no remark
designed to elicit from him an account of his motives in coming to
Marmion; she asked him neither when he had arrived nor how long he
intended to stay. His allusion to his cousinship with Miss Chancellor
might have served to her mind as a reason; yet, on the other hand, it
would have been open to her to wonder why, if he had come to see the
young ladies from Charles Street, he was not in more of a hurry to
present himself. It was plain Doctor Prance didn't go into that kind of
analysis. If Ransom had complained to her of a sore throat she would
have inquired with precision about his symptoms; but she was incapable
of asking him any question with a social bearing. Sociably enough,
however, they continued to wander through the principal street of the
little town, darkened in places by immense old elms, which made a
blackness overhead. There was a salt smell in the air, as if they were
nearer the water; Doctor Prance said that Olive's house was at the other
end.
"I shall take it as a kindness if, for this evening, you don't mention
that you have happened to meet me," Ransom remarked, after a little.
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