The day was brilliant, and Stephanie arose at length with a feeling that
she must go up into the sunshine and face the future. The thought of
meeting Pierre even could not ultimately detain her below, though it
kept her there considerably longer than usual. After all, was she not
bound to meet him? Of what use was it to shirk the inevitable?
But when she finally entered the saloon, he was not there. The table was
laid for breakfast, and a sailor was at hand to serve her. But of Pierre
there was no sign. He evidently had no intention of joining her.
She made no inquiry for him, but as soon as the meal was over she took
her cloak and prepared to go on deck. With nervous haste she passed the
scene of the previous night's encounter. She almost expected to find
Pierre waiting for her at the top of the companion, but she looked for
him in vain. And even when she finally stepped upon the deck and crossed
to the rail that she might search the whole length of the yacht, she
could not discover him.
A vague uneasiness began to trouble her. The suspense was hard to bear.
She longed to meet him and have done with it.
But she longed in vain. All through the sunny hours of the morning she
sat or paced in solitude. No one came near her till her breakfast
attendant appeared with another meal.
By the end of the afternoon she was thoroughly miserable. She longed
intensely to inquire for the yacht's master, yet could not bring herself
to do so.
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