nd wanting it to
mislead him.

"No!" he went on. "Liver. All sailors suffer from it, more or less. It's
the bugbear of the sea. I have a doctor on board because, with a score or
so of crew, it's really a duty to have a doctor."

"I quite see that," Audrey agreed, thinking mildly: "You only have a doctor
on board because you're always worrying about your own health."

"However," said Mr. Gilman, "he's not much use to me personally. He doesn't
understand liver. Scotsmen never do. Fortunately, I have a very good doctor
in Paris. I prefer French doctors. And I'm sure they're right on the great
liver question. All English doctors tell you to take plenty of violent
exercise if you want to shake off a liver attack. Quite wrong. Too much
exercise tires the body and so it tires the liver as well--obviously.
What's the result? You can see, can't you? The liver works worse than ever.
Now, a French doctor will advise complete rest until the attack is over.
_Then_ exercise, if you like; but not before. Of course, _you_ don't know
you've got a liver, and I dare say you think it's very odd of me to talk
about my liver. I'm sure you do."

"I don't, honestly. I like you to talk like that. It's very interesting."
And she thought: "Suppose Tommy was wrong, after all! ... She's very
spiteful."

"That's you all over, Mrs. Moncreiff. You understand men far better than
any other woman I ever saw, unless, perhaps, it's Madame Piriac."

"Oh, Mr. Gilman! How can you say such a thing?"

"It's not the first time you've heard it, I wager!" said Mr. Gilman. "And
it won't be the last! Any man who knows women can see at once that you are
one of the women who understand. Otherwise, do you imagine I should have
begun upon my troubles?"

Now, at any rate, he was sincere--she was convinced of that. And he looked
very smart as he spied the horizon for lights and peered at the compass,
and moved the wheel at intervals with a strong, accustomed gesture. And,
assuredly, he looked very experienced. Audrey blushed. She just had to
believe that there must be something in what he said concerning her talent.
She had noticed it herself several times.

In an interval of the music the sea washed with a long sound against the
bow of the yacht; then silence.

"I do love that sudden wash against the yacht," said Audrey.

"Yes," agreed Mr. Gilman, "so do I. All doctors tell me that I should be
better if I gave up yachting. But I won't. I couldn't. Whatever it