moment as though he had seen a ghost, an other-
world thing. But that look vanished instantaneously, and he nodded at me
with mere exasperation at something quite of this world--whatever it was.
"It's a bad business. My brother-in-law knows nothing of women," he
cried with an air of profound, experienced wisdom.

What he imagined he knew of women himself I can't tell. I did not know
anything of the opportunities he might have had. But this is a subject
which, if approached with undue solemnity, is apt to elude one's grasp
entirely. No doubt Fyne knew something of a woman who was Captain
Anthony's sister. But that, admittedly, had been a very solemn study. I
smiled at him gently, and as if encouraged or provoked, he completed his
thought rather explosively.

"And that girl understands nothing . . . It's sheer lunacy."

"I don't know," I said, "whether the circumstances of isolation at sea
would be any alleviation to the danger. But it's certain that they shall
have the opportunity to learn everything about each other in a lonely
_tete-a-tete_."

"But dash it all," he cried in hollow accents which at the same time had
the tone of bitter irony--I had never before heard a sound so quaintly
ugly and almost horrible--"You forget Mr. Smith."

"What Mr. Smith?" I asked innocently.

Fyne made an extraordinary simiesque grimace. I believe it was quite
involuntary, but you know that a grave, much-lined, shaven countenance
when distorted in an unusual way is extremely apelike. It was a
surprising sight, and rendered me not only speechless but stopped the
progress of my thought completely. I must have presented a remarkably
imbecile appearance.

"My brother-in-law considered it amusing to chaff me about us introducing
the girl as Miss Smith," said Fyne, going surly in a moment. "He said
that perhaps if he had heard her real name from the first it might have
restrained him. As it was, he made the discovery too late. Asked me to
tell Zoe this together with a lot more nonsense."

Fyne gave me the impression of having escaped from a man inspired by a
grimly playful ebullition of high spirits. It must have been most
distasteful to him; and his solemnity got damaged somehow in the process,
I perceived. There were holes in it through which I could see a new, an
unknown Fyne.

"You wouldn't believe it," he went on, "but she looks upon her father
exclusively as a victim. I don't know," he burst out suddenly through