He drew a deep breath. "Perhaps I'd rather postpone that pleasure," he said quietly.

"You mean until we're out at sea together? Away from this rotten old country? Away from all our old ties?"

"Perhaps," he said noncommittally.

She looked at him strangely, with the inquisitive look of a gay, pretty bird. "I can't understand you, you know," she confessed. "I feel so happy about this, so carefree. You seem to be full of rather absurd loyalties. Why were you so touchy on the drive down every time I mentioned Stephen's name?"

A shadow fell over his lean, handsome face. "You forget I owe him a lot," he said slowly.

"So do I! Do I worry?" She threw back her pretty fair head and let a puff of blue*gray smoke glide to the ceiling. Her smooth throat gleamed whitely. "Why should you feel any more upset than I?"

"You forget you're the woman he loves and I'm just a man he befriended! It's not very pleasant to feel you're letting down your best friend!"

"Oh, Rex, how tiresomely moral you are. Positively suburban with your conventions. And in your pictures you're so divinely unscrupulous. Like I am. I'm gloriously indiscreet! I don't care who knows I'm eloping with you. I want all the world to know. It will * tomorrow morning!" And she laughed in sudden delight.

Rex's face hardened. His jaw protruded aggressively. "How do you know it will?"

She smiled mysteriously. "Oh, I just know."

He crossed over to her and stood looking down at her, his gray*blue eyes glowing dangerously. His voice, too, was dangerous suddenly. "How do you know, Rita?" he repeated sternly.

"What a he*man," she lisped mockingly. "And too, too compelling!"

"Look here, Rita, you've got to tell me." His hands shot out, and he gripped her shoulders.

"How is the whole world going to know by tomorrow? It isn't likely Stephen will give it out so soon."

She wriggled petulantly in his grip. "Oh, Rex, you are so tiresome! If you really want to know, I told that little press girl this afternoon * or practically told her! If she's any sense she'll put two and two together. And I guess she has sense. Enough anyhow!"

For a moment he stared down at her incredulously. "You told Miss Thayle!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

She made a little moue with her lips. "Why shouldn't I? Let me go, Rex. You're hurting my shoulders."He released her immediately. He walked to the other side of the room and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, G.o.d!" he muttered. And he kicked a stool savagely out of the way with his foot.

"I didn't think you cared so much about publicity," she taunted him. "And, anyhow, I'm sure the scandal won't hurt you. To run away with me is a most romantic thing! It ought to help you."

But, strangely enough, Rex hadn't been thinking how the scandal might affect his career.

And this was extraordinary, as, until recently, his career had been all*important to Rex Brandon.

Instead he was thinking of a slight red*haired girl; of brown eyes that had regarded him with a certain disdain, even dislike. What must she be thinking of him now? Undoubtedly she would imagine she had just cause to despise him!

"What on earth made you tell her?" he demanded hoa.r.s.ely.

She shrugged. "She annoyed me, I think. I told her you had no time to see her, and she acted as though I hadn't the right to tell her! I wanted to convince her I had."

"Why should she have annoyed you?" he asked curiously.

She crushed out her cigarette and wriggled her shoulders impatiently.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I was sick of hearing Stephen sing her praises. She used to be his secretary. According to him she was the paragon of every virtue."

"But since you don't love him yourself, why should you care?"

She lauched. "Blessed innocent, you! No woman likes to hear any man sing another woman's praises. At best it's most boring. At worst it's infuriating. That's one thing I liked about you. You've never mentioned another woman's name, yet I know hundreds are in love with you."

"Perhaps I'd never met another woman whose name I cared to mention * until recently." He added the latter under his breath. She heard him and bridled. "You mean until you fell in love with me? That was recently, wasn't it?"

He laughed and said, "So recently I scarcely know it myself."

She stamped her small foot again. "Don't joke about such things, Rex. Not about things as sacred and serious as our love for each other."

He sighed. Why did a woman inevitably think you were joking when you told her the truth?

"Darling," she began in the pause, "don't you think you'd better go and start unpacking?"

"That can wait," he said curtly. There was nothing in that trunk to unpack except books.

A knock on the cabin door. Rex looked towards her inquiringly.

"It's only the old steward," she said. "Tell him to come in."

Rex called, "Come in." But it wasn't the steward. And, from the moment that door opened, the atmosphere of that room became electric, tense. Neither Rex nor Rita spoke for a moment.

They just stared at the man who opened the cabin door silently and stepped inside.

"Why, Stephen... Rita faltered when the continued silence got badly on her nerves."Yes, I suppose this is a surprise, my dear, so I'll forgive your unenthusiastic welcome,"

Stephen said quietly. And there was something in the deathlike quietness of his voice that made her draw back with a tiny scream.

But Stephen was no longer looking at her, he was looking at Rex. Rex who had straightened instinctively at Stephen's entrance. A slight color had crept to his temples, and his eyes were clouded with dismay. Heavens, what a mess! This was worse than anything he could have antic.i.p.ated. Now he would have no chance of explaining to Stephen just what he had intended doing. What husband would accept such an explanation, having caught the other man with his wife red*handed, like this? In that moment Rex felt more wretched than he had ever felt in his life. Not so much for himself, but for Stephen. Stephen of the deadly white face, the desperate staring eyes, Stephen who seemed quite beside himself in that moment.

And still there was silence. The cigarette burned Rex's fingers, but he didn't notice it. He didn't know what to do, what to say. He realized with an ironical sense of despair that had this been on the screen he would have known exactly how to act. In the studio he would have carried off the whole situation with his usual jaunty air, scoring off the ill*used husband in a way that made the ill*used husband seem but a poor blundering fool. And he would have got all the sympathy, particularly the feminine sympathy, for himself! So easy on the screen. So different in real life. Because now he didn't feel in the least unscrupulous or jaunty. And all his own sympathy went out to Stephen.

Rita was the first to recover. In such situations women have more self*possession than men.

"I don't know why you've come here, Stephen," she said sharply. "And I a.s.sure you it's not going to do any good!"

But he didn't seem to hear her. He was still staring at Rex.

"You know what I think of you?" he asked slowly.

Rex's eyes fell. His color deepened. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Stephen shouted. "You play the role of Judas and say you're sorry!"

"For heaven's sake don't make such a fuss, Stephen," Rita said petulantly. "It's a common enough situation. I've eloped with him. There's nothing more to be said."

"Isn't there?" Stephen said grimly. "I think I'm going to have the last word in this, my dear.

I've come prepared to have it, too."

It happened in a moment. Stephen's hand fled to his hip pocket. There was a glimmer of steel in his hand, but before he had time to level the gun at Rex's head a hand gripped his arm from behind. Starr's hand. She had been standing in the pa.s.sage just outside the half*closed door. All evening she had been fearing just such an occurrence.

"Stephen!" she cried, her voice sharp and agonized. "Are you mad? He isn't worth it. Don't you realize that?"

7

It was Rex who wrenched the revolver out of Stephen's hand. He had sprung forward at the same moment that Starr gripped Stephen's arm from behind. Still if it hadn't been for her it is doubtful if he would have got there in time. He threw the revolver onto the table, where it fell with a small clatter, and said: "For G.o.d's sake, Stephen, let's have done with dramatics! But for Miss Thayle's intervention I might be a dead man!"

"A d.a.m.n good job, too!" Stephen growled savagely.

Rex shrugged. His lips twisted wryly. "Perhaps that's a matter of opinion."

Rita had been looking from one to the other with wide, startled eyes. Now the immediate danger was pa.s.sed she felt distinctly thrilled. To be fought over like that! How brave Rex had been! He hadn't blinked an eyelash when the revolver had been leveled at him!

"Rex, you were too marvelous!" she murmured in an admiring gasp. "I'm very proud of you!"

He grinned down at her crookedly. "That's what you've been hoping for, isn't it, Rita? A situation as exciting as those on the screen. I hope I was sufficiently romantic, my dear!... And now you've had your little thrill I'll say good*night, if I may, and leave you to your husband."

Of the three pairs of eyes turned towards him Stephen's were by far the most startled. "You mean you'd leave her like that?" he shot out incredulously. Unbelievable to him that any man Rita loved would dream of giving her up. At least without a hard struggle. And here was this man calmly returning her to him without even the pretense of a fight! What a white*livered cad he must be, he decided grimly.

Rex knew very well what Stephen was thinking, and his face hardened. Still he saw no other way out of this ghastly situation than to act the part of a cad. A cowardly one at that! He had no intention of fighting Stephen for Rita. Too awful to think he might win the fight! Besides, if he behaved really badly mightn't that disgust Rita with him? Send her back repentant and disillusioned into the arms of her husband? It was worth trying, anyhow. For the moment, he felt, it didn't matter about him.

"What else is there for me to do, old man, than to give her up, since you've caught us like this?" he asked quietly.

"Don't call me 'old man,' " Stephen thundered savagely.

"I apologize." Rex smiled faintly. He selected a cigarette from his case and lit it with elaborate care. But his hand shook slightly as he held the match to it. "I understood we were friends.""Friends!" Stephen laughed harshly. "You speak of friendship when you've betrayed me like this?"

"I wish you wouldn't keep shouting, Stephen," Rita put in aggrievedly. "Someone may hear you. Then Rex's reputation and mine will be ruined before we even start on this trip!"

"You don't think vou're going now?" Stephen swung towards her.

She shrugged slightly. "Why not? I don't really see it makes any difference, you and that girl have arrived. Rex and I love each other. We're going to elope." She sighed and added, "I'm afraid that's final."

"Pardon me, my dear." Rex raised one eyebrow and glanced towards her quizzically. "I think I have something to say about that!"

She threw him a beautiful smile. "Of course you have, darling. Only do say it quickly and make them go. My nerves aren't what they were. Scenes seem to upset me." And she sank down into the low square*shaped couch.

"That's a pity, because I'm afraid you're in for another." Rex smiled slightly and looked down at the glowing end of his cigarette. A moment later he straightened himself and said with a mockingly heroic gesture, "I feel I can't take you from your husband, Rita. He's proved himself the better man!"

"Don't talk such sentimental twaddle," she chided impatiently. "You sound like something out of the worst type of film. Besides, he hasn't proved himself anything of the sort. And what do I care who is the better man, for that matter? I love you. It's ridiculous for you to try and behave in this quixotic fashion!"

He walked towards her. His face was grim.

"I'm sorry," he said curtly. "I thought you'd prefer it that way. But since you'd rather have the truth, here it is. Since the appearance of your husband I'd like to back out, if you don't mind, my dear. I don't care for dramatics, except on the screen. And, despite your insistence on it, I'm not really romantic. In fact I'm horribly practical; and your husband, as you know, is my most important director. So I think, all things considered, we'd better call this elopement off."

"Oh!" It was a strangled cry of protest. For the moment she was too dumbfounded to continue. "Oh," she cried again, "You couldn't behave so meanly, Rex!"

He smiled with faint irony. "It seems I'm not only capable of it but I intend to, my dear Rita."

She sprang to her feet. "Oh, I hate you, Rex. How dare you! How dare you * humiliating me like this! Of all the cads... After you'd persuaded me to elope with you, too! Begged me to do it. But" * her voice cracked in a sob * "you don't mean it, do you? Tell me you don't mean it.

Oh, I can't believe..." And she tried to fling herself into his arms.

He evaded her. "I'm afraid I do mean it," he said determinedly.

Her pretty face crimsoned. "Oh, you * you brute! You utter, utter bounder! I'd like... I'd like..." Suddenly raising her small hand, she struck him as hard as she could across the face. It left an ugly red mark. He started back slightly. And, for a moment, a dangerous light blazed out of his blue*gray eyes. But, a moment later, he recovered himself. He even smiled crookedly. "Thanks, my dear. That settles it, doesn't it?""Yes, that settles it!" she cried in a fury. "I feel ashamed of myself for ever having listened to you, ever having loved you. I loathe you. I hope I never see you again.... Stephen, take me home. Take me home at once, do you hear?"

Stephen stepped forward and put an arm about her. She was quite hysterical.

"Of course, dearest," he said soothingly, as one speaks to a tired, irascible child. Suddenly she saw Starr, Starr standing uncomfortably just inside the room. For the past minutes she hadn't even noticed the girl's presence. Now it infuriated her that another woman should have witnessed her humiliations. And she had hated this girl from the first.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded tersely.

"I * I drove down in the car with Mr. Desmond," Starr stammered, taken aback for a moment by the fury of her attack.

"I suppose it was you who told him Rex and I were going to elope?" Rita went on savagely.

"He wouldn't have come back from the studio in time to get my letter, otherwise. And what business is it of yours, I'd like to know? Interfering in my personal affairs!" She was like a little tiger*cat in that moment, her fur all ruffled, her claws sharp, ready to spring.

"Please, Rita, be sensible," Stephen begged hoa.r.s.ely, tightening his arm about her slim, trembling body. "Miss Thayle was only acting as she thought for the best. I'm eternally grateful to her."

"Interfering busybody!" Rita hissed.

"Be quiet, Rita," he spoke almost sharply. Then he turned to Starr. "You'll let us drive you home, Miss Thayle?"

"I'm not coming with you if that girl's coming too," Rita cried in childish, unreasonable temper. But she was a child, really. A spoiled child who had never grown up.

"Thank you, Mr. Desmond, but I can easily get home by myself," Starr said quietly, "Please don't trouble about me."

Stephen hesitated. He looked from her to his wife.

"If you're sure...?" he began hesitantly.

She nodded, and he threw her a grateful glance. A minute later, when Rita had gone into the adjoining cabin to pack her things, he crossed over and gripped her hand. "I am grateful to you," he said, in a voice too low for the others to hear. "Grateful for everything." And with a little shiver he glanced towards the revolver which still lay on the table.

"That's all right, Mr. Desmond," Starr said quickly. "If I've helped you I'm glad."

"You've done more for me than I can ever express," he went on in the same low, earnest voice. "I shall never forget it."

"Please don't say any more," she pleaded. There was an odd catch in her voice, and her eyes had misted.

"When you two have finished this touching little scene I'd like to go home," Rita said sharply from the doorway.