ell you."

Once more they were seated with the table between them. Pip's back was to
the window, but Eve faced the broad expanse of sky and sea. A faint pink
flush was on the waters: a silver star hung at the edge of a crescent
moon. There was no sound but the purr of machinery and the mewing of
gulls in the distance.

Eve was in pink--a straight linen frock with a low white collar. It gave
her an air of simplicity quite unlike her usual elegance. Pip feasted his
eyes on her.

"You've got to face it. Brooks doesn't care."

"He does care."

"He didn't care enough to come down last night when you were afraid--and
wanted him. And you turned to me, just for one little minute, Eve. Do you
think I shall ever forget the thrill of the thought that you turned to
me?"

She was staring straight out at the little moon. "Marie-Louise was his
patient--he had to stay with her."

"You are saying that to me, but in your heart you know you are resenting
the fact that he didn't come when you called. Aren't you, Eve? Aren't you
resenting it?"

She told him the truth. "Yes. But I know that when I am his wife, I shall
have to let him think about his patients. I ought to be big enough for
that."

"You are big enough for anything. But you are not always going to be
content with crumbs from the king's table. And that's what you are
getting from Brooks. And I have a feast ready. Eve, can't you see that I
would give, give, give, and he will take, take, take? Eve, can't you
see?"

She did see, and for the moment she was swayed by the force of his
passionate eloquence.

She leaned toward him a little. "Pip, dear, I wish--sometimes--that it
might have been--you."

It needed only this. He swept the card table aside with his strong arms.
He was on his knees begging for love, for life. Her hair swept his cheek.

The little moon shone clear in the quiet sky. There was not much light,
but there was enough for a man standing in the door to see two dark
figures outlined against the silver space beyond.

And Richard was standing in the door!

Eve saw him first. "Go away, Pip," she said, and stood up. "I--I think I
can make him understand."

When they were alone she said to Richard in a strained voice, "It was my
fault, Dicky."

"Do you mean that you--let him, Eve?"

"No. But I let him talk about his love for me--and--and--he cares very
much."

"He knows that you are engaged to me."

"Yes. But last night when you stayed on deck w