The Green Bungalow by Fred M. White

With the air of a man who is without a single trouble, and in a position to look the whole world is the face, Blythe strolled down the Palace Pier the following afternoon. It was bright and sunny, with a warm wind blowing from the sea, but, as yet, the band was not playing, and there was only a sprinkling of people promenading up and down. It was some time before Blythe found what he wanted, but presently seated in a corner of the glass shelter, he made out the forms of Harley and Nettie, who appeared to be talking earnestly together and ignoring the rest of the visitors. They were talking so earnestly that it was possible for Blythe to take his seat on the far side of the shelter, in such a position that he could hear fairly well what was going on on the other side of the partition. Those wonderfully keen ears of his followed the conversation more or less coherently, and his quick wit fitted in the rest. He was frankly eavesdropping, but, from his point of view, it was in a good cause, and, indeed, there were cogent reasons why he could not come forward boldly and proclaim himself on behalf of the lovers.

There was a long silence just after Blythe had taken his seat, and it was Nettie who spoke first.