"It's no worse than the billiard room... . You spend too much of your time there... ."

What the deuce had Feathers meant?

"Did you hear what I said?" Mrs. Heriot demanded, and he roused himself with an effort.

"I heard--yes!"

"And don't you agree?"

Chris temporized. "Well, there's more air out here," he said.

She laughed lightly. "How you do hate to agree with anyone," she said. She leaned back and looked up at the sky.

"This reminds me of the nights in India," she said suddenly.

Chris made no comment, and she went on.

"It seems as if my life out there must all have been in another world."

"Time pa.s.ses so quickly, doesn't it?" said Chris absently.

He had never seen her in this mood before, and it rather bored him.

"I went out as soon as I was married," she went on, taking it for granted that he was interested. "I was--oh, so young--younger than Mrs. Lawless, I should think!" She laughed rather bitterly. "I thought I was going to be 'happy ever after,' as the story books have it, when I got married." She shrugged her shoulders. "That's what comes of marrying for money."

"You are very candid," Chris said amusedly.

"I am; I think it always pays, don't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I haven't thought about it."

"I have! And I know that people don't like me because I always say what I think."

"Don't they!" He drew in the sculls a little and, resting on them, fumbled for his cigarette case.

There was a little smile on his face. Mrs. Heriot was amusing him now, though unconsciously.

She stretched out a white hand. "Give me a cigarette." Chris handed her his case, but she waved it away. "Don't be so ungallant! Light it for me."

He did as she asked.

"Does your wife smoke?" she asked abruptly.

"No." He bent to the sculls again. "I'm afraid she's not very modern."

She caught up the word quickly. "Afraid!"

Chris frowned. "I should have said 'glad,' perhaps." He corrected himself rather shortly.

Mrs. Heriot looked at him in silence for a moment, then she said, energetically: "Don't let marriage turn you into a bore, Chris!"

"A bore!" He was so amazed that he dropped his cigarette. "Yes."

She smiled teasingly. "It does that with most men, you know."

"I think I can promise you it will not do that with me," he said rather warmly. "I have always loathed the idea of ordinary married life, staying at home night after night, tied to a woman's ap.r.o.n strings, dropping all one's pals ..." He broke off, coloring warmly. He had said a great deal more than he had intended, and he knew that she had purposely led him on to do so. "Don't you think we had better be getting back?" he asked rather curtly.

"What, already?" she laughed, and, bending forward, looked at a small jewelled watch on her wrist. "Why, it's not nine!" She turned and looked out over the smooth sea. "Let's row out to that boat,"

she said suddenly. She indicated a small anch.o.r.ed fishing smack with furled sails that looked like a fairy ship in the path of the moonlight.

"We can get on board if there is n.o.body there. Do! It will be such fun!"

Chris had the uncomfortable feeling that she expected him to refuse, and because he made it a rule never to do what he knew was expected of him he agreed. He pulled the little skiff about and made for the anch.o.r.ed boat.

There was a light on her mast and a lantern tied to her bow, but apparently she was deserted.

Mrs. Heriot made a cup of her hands and called a long "Coo-ee."

"There's n.o.body on board," she said. "Go closer to her, Chris."

When they were near enough she stretched out her hand and caught at a rope hanging loosely at the side of the ship.

"It's a ladder!" she said excitedly. "Oh, we must go on board. It's so romantic!"

"It's a fishing smack--it will be horribly dirty probably," Chris objected.

She was standing up, holding to its side.

"Of course it won't be." She looked around at him. "I believe you don't want to come," she said laughing.

Chris drew in the sculls without another word and stood up.

"If you're so bent on trespa.s.sing," he said, and held out his hand.

They scrambled on board together and looked round. The ship was quite deserted and rocking gently on the smooth water. Mrs. Heriot clapped her hands like a delighted child. She was quite a good actress when she was in the mood and given the right environment.

"Isn't this lovely? It reminds me of the days when we used to hide in ruined castles when we were children."

She spoke as if ruined castles were to be met with in every street of every suburban town.

"There's not much of a ruined castle about this," said Chris. He was not at all amused. He thought the whole adventure silly, which merely showed that he was not with the right woman and not interested in the woman he was with.

The moon was high in the sky, and the twinkling lights of the town looked a long way off, though very faintly in the distance they could hear the sound of the band playing on the pier.

Chris listened apathetically, then suddenly he spoke.

"It must be late. They're playing 'G.o.d Save the King.'"