He scrubbed the
burnt cork off his face with all possible speed and changed his clothes
and made his way to the upper deck. It was like Billie, he felt, to have
chosen this spot for their meeting. It would be deserted and it was
hallowed for them both by sacred associations.

She was standing at the rail, looking out over the water. The moon was
quite full. Out on the horizon to the south its light shone on the sea,
making it look like the silver beach of some distant fairy island. The
girl appeared to be wrapped in thought and it was not till the sharp
crack of Sam's head against an overhanging stanchion announced his
approach, that she turned.

"Oh, is that you?"

"Yes."

"You've been a long time."

"It wasn't an easy job," explained Sam, "getting all that burnt cork
off. You've no notion how the stuff sticks. You have to use butter...."

She shuddered.

"Don't!"

"But I did. You have to with burnt cork."

"Don't tell me these horrible things." Her voice rose almost
hysterically. "I never want to hear the words burnt cork mentioned again
as long as I live."

"I feel exactly the same." Sam moved to her side. "Darling," he said in
a low voice, "it was like you to ask me to meet you here. I know what
you were thinking. You thought that I should need sympathy. You wanted
to pet me, to smooth my wounded feelings, to hold me in your arms and
tell me that, as we loved each other, what did anything else matter?"

"I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, you didn't? I thought you did!" He looked at her wistfully. "I
thought," he said, "that possibly you might have wished to comfort me.
I have been through a great strain. I have had a shock...."

"And what about me?" she demanded passionately. "Haven't I had a shock?"

He melted at once.

"Have you had a shock too? Poor little thing! Sit down and tell me all
about it."

She looked away from him, her face working.

"Can't you understand what a shock I have had? I thought you were the
perfect knight."

"Yes, isn't it?"

"Isn't what?"

"I thought you said it was a perfect night."

"I said I thought _you_ were the perfect knight."

"Oh, ah!"

A sailor crossed the deck, a dim figure in the shadows, went over to a
sort of raised summerhouse with a brass thingummy in it, fooled about
for a moment, and went away again. Sailors earn their money easily.

"Yes?" said Sam when he had gone.

"I forget what I was saying."

"Something about my