mn" that had
resulted from her headlong flight after Dr. Angus.

She was standing a little breathless by her own door when Number 8
opened and Louis Farne looked out. His hair was rumpled, his expression
one of speechless annoyance.

"W--what the d--devil are you up to?" he said, stammering a little.
"Th-that's the s-second time."

"Oh, it's you!" she said, speaking breathlessly. "A horrible man gave me
whisky, and I was frightened."

"Good Lord!" He gazed at her, and she noticed that he gazed in a queer
way, afraid to meet her eyes: it was her chin he saw when he looked at
her; she rubbed it with her handkerchief, wondering if a smut had got on
it. And he transferred his gaze to her ear.

"And I made you spill your tea! I am sorry! I seem made to do violent
things to you. But can't I get you some more?"

"I s-suppose I c-can make some," he said, turning into the cabin.

"Don't they give us tea? Do we have to make our own?"

"Oh no--but I've done this trip before, and know how one w-wants a
d-drink in the tropics."

He took the door in his hand and fumbled with the faulty catch as though
he would shut it. Then he seemed to shake himself together inside his
coat, which was very crumpled, as though he had been lying down inside
it. "Look here," he said breathlessly and with an effort, "w-would you
like some tea? I can get another c-cup from the steward."

"I would," she said frankly. "Do make some more. I've a cake in my box
that's supposed to last me till I get to Australia. But I'll find it,
and we'll have it now. I'm horribly hungry."

She went inside her cabin and drew out her trunk, which she had not yet
unlocked. She heard him clearing up the broken cup, and then he tapped
on her door.

"I can't open it--mine opens inwards, you see," she called. "And my
trunk's in the way. What is it?"

"I--I--c-called you an idiot," came his voice, rather low and
hesitating.

"So I was," she said bluntly, and heard him laugh.

"St-still--I needn't have mentioned it."

Then his steps grew faint along the alley-way. She sat back on her
heels, frowning. She was wondering why he would not look at her, why he
flushed and stammered when he spoke to her.

He was back in a few minutes, explaining that he had been to the cook's
galley for boiling water to make tea. She had dragged her cabin trunk
into the doorway, and laid upon it the tin in which her cake was packed,
the two cups he brought with him and the teapot.