noon
Incense was good ; it was far better to be liked as Gifford Barrett than as the composer of the _ Alan Breck Overture _ , however , and he had a vague consciousness that he had never been more of a man than when he was walking and talking with quiet Hope Holden . The train rounded the curve at Kidd 's Treasure , and Mr. Barrett looked backward to catch one last glimpse of the sea . As he did so , he forgot Hope , and went back to the memory of his last hour on the beach . Strolling along the sand , that noon , with his eyes fixed on the ground , he had caught sight of an approaching shadow and he looked up to see Phebe standing before him . `` Mr. Barrett , '' she said abruptly ; `` I 'm sorry I called you a coward . '' He rallied from his surprise and raised his cap . `` Oh , that 's all right , '' he said lightly .