"I do not know. But if I do not deceive myself I have already informed you
that in certain circumstances I should not return to the yacht."

"You are worse than a schoolboy."

"It is possible."

"Anyway, _I_ shan't explain on the yacht. I shall tell them that I know
nothing about it."

"But no one will believe you," he retorted maliciously over his shoulder.
And then he was gone.

She at any rate was no longer surrounded by the largeness of the universe.
He might still be, but she was not. She was in mind already on the yacht
trying to act a surprise equal to the surprise of the others when Musa
failed to reappear. She was very angry with him, not because he had been a
rude schoolboy and was entirely impossible as a human being, but because
she had allowed herself to leave the yacht with him and would therefore be
compelled sooner or later to answer questions about him. She seriously
feared that Mr. Gilman might refuse to sail unless she confessed to him her
positive knowledge that Musa would not be seen again, and that thus she
might have to choose between the failure of her plans for Jane Foley and
her own personal discomfiture.

Instead of being in the mighty universe she was struggling amid the
tiresome littleness of society on a yacht. She hated yachts for their very
cosiness and their quality of keeping people close together who wanted to
be far apart. And as she watched the figure of Musa growing fainter she was
more than ever impressed by the queerness of men. Women seemed to be so
logical, so realistic, so understandable, so calculable, whereas men were
enigmas of waywardness and unreason. At just that moment her feet reminded
her that they had been wetted by the adventure in the punt, and she said to
herself sagely that she must take precautions against a chill.

And then she thought she detected some unusual phenomenon behind a clump of
bushes to the right which hid a plank-bridge across a waterway. She would
have been frightened if she had not been very excited. And in her
excitement she marched straight up to the clump, and found Mr. Hurley in a
crouching posture. She started, and recovered.

"I might have known!" she said disdainfully.

"We all make mistakes," said Mr. Hurley defensively. "We all make
mistakes. I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as I got here, but I couldn't
get away quietly enough. And you talked so loud. Ye'll admit I had just
cause for suspicion. And being a very agreeable la