A sudden mist descended
before her eyes, and she groped out blindly for support. Her overtaxed
nerves had betrayed her again.
"Come and sit down, mademoiselle," a quiet voice said; and a steady arm
impelled her forward. "There is something of a swell to-night. I am
afraid you feel it."
So courteous was the tone that she almost gasped her astonishment. She
sank into a chair, and made a desperate effort to regain her
self-control.
"You are very kind, monsieur," she said, not very steadily. "No doubt I
shall become accustomed to it."
"I do not think you are quite fit for this," he said gravely.
She looked up at him with more confidence.
"I am really stronger than you think," she said. "And I wanted to speak
to you on the subject of our destination."
She fancied that he stiffened a little at the words, but he merely said:
"Well, mademoiselle?"
"Will you not sit down," she said, "and tell me where the yacht is
going?"
He sat down on the edge of the table. There was undeniable restlessness
in his attitude.
"We are running due west at the present moment," he said.
"With what object?" she asked.
"With no object, mademoiselle," he rejoined, "except to keep out of
reach of our enemies."
"You have left Maritas for good?" she asked.
He uttered a short laugh.
"Certainly. I have nothing to go back for."
"And you are indifferent," she questioned, with slight hesitation, "as
to the direction you take?"
"No, I am not indifferent," he answered curtly.
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