excusable if she thinks herself priceless. I mean a girl of our
civilisation which has established a dithyrambic phraseology for the
expression of love. A man in love will accept any convention exalting
the object of his passion and in this indirect way his passion itself.
In what way the captain of the ship _Ferndale_ gave proofs of lover-like
lavishness I could not guess very well. But I was glad she was
appreciative. It is lucky that small things please women. And it is
not silly of them to be thus pleased. It is in small things that the
deepest loyalty, that which they need most, the loyalty of the passing
moment, is best expressed.

She had remained thoughtful, letting her deep motionless eyes rest on
the streaming jumble of traffic. Suddenly she said:

"And I wanted to ask you--I was really glad when I saw you actually
here. Who would have expected you here, at this spot, before this
hotel! I certainly never ... You see it meant a lot to me. You are
the only person who knows ... who knows for certain..."

"Knows what?" I said, not discovering at first what she had in her
mind. Then I saw it. "Why can't you leave that alone?" I
remonstrated, rather annoyed at the invidious position she was forcing
on me in a sense. "It's true that I was the only person to see," I
added. "But, as it happens, after your mysterious disappearance I told
the Fynes the story of our meeting."

Her eyes raised to mine had an expression of dreamy, unfathomable
candour, if I dare say so. And if you wonder what I mean I can only say
that I have seen the sea wear such an expression on one or two occasions
shortly before sunrise on a calm, fresh day. She said as if meditating
aloud that she supposed the Fynes were not likely to talk about that.
She couldn't imagine any connection in which... Why should they?

As her tone had become interrogatory I assented. "To be sure. There's
no reason whatever"--thinking to myself that they would be more likely
indeed to keep quiet about it. They had other things to talk of. And
then remembering little Fyne stuck upstairs for an unconscionable time,
enough to blurt out everything he ever knew in his life, I reflected
that he would assume naturally that Captain Anthony had nothing to learn
from him about Flora de Barral. It had been up to now my assumption
too. I saw my mistake. The sincerest of women will make no unnecessary
confidences to a man. And this is as it should be.