get I spoke--"

"Oh, I don't mind," he said wearily; "now that Mrs. Ilkington has begun
to distribute handbills. Only ... I don't know that there's a regular,
hard-and-fast engagement: just an understanding."

"Thank you," said Miss Searle. "I promise not to speak of it again." She
hesitated an instant, then added: "To you or anybody else."

"You see," he went on after a little, "I've been working on a play for
Miss Landis, under agreement with Jules Max, her manager. They want to
use it to open Max's newest Broadway theatre late this autumn. That's
why I came across--to find a place in London to bury myself in and work
undisturbed. It means a good deal to me--to all of us--this play.... But
what I'm getting at is this: Alison--Miss Landis--didn't leave the
States this summer; Mrs. Ilkington (she told me at dinner) left New York
before I did. So how in Heaven's name--?"

"I had known nothing of Mrs. Ilkington at all," said Miss Searle
cautiously, "until we met in Paris last month."

He was conscious of the hint of uneasiness in her manner, but inclined
to assign it to the wrong cause.

"I trust I haven't bored you, Miss Searle--talking about myself."

"Oh, no; indeed no. You see--" she laughed--"I quite understand; I keep
a temperament of my own--if you should happen to wonder why Mrs.
Ilkington interests herself in me. I'm supposed to have a voice and to
be in training for grand opera."

"Not really?"

And again she laughed. "I'm afraid there isn't any cure for me at this
late date," she protested; "I've gone so far I must go farther. But I
know what you mean. People who sing _are_ difficult. However ..." She
stirred restlessly in her chair, then sat up.

"What is that light over there?" she asked. "Do you know?"

Staff's gaze sought the indicated direction. "Roches Point, I imagine;
we're about due at Queenstown ..."

"As late as that?" The girl moved as if to rise. Staff jumped up and
offered her a hand. In a moment she was standing beside him. "I must go
below," said she. "Good night."

"You won't tell me who it was in Lucille's, yesterday?" he harked back
pleadingly.

She shook her head gaily as she turned forward to the main companionway
entrance: "No; you must find out for yourself."

"But perhaps it isn't a practical joke?"

"Then--_perhaps_--I shall tell you all--sometime."

He paused by the raised door-sill as she stepped within the
superstructure. "Why not stop up and see the tender come