“Of course not.”
There was a corner of the deck below the bridge where it was very dark. She stopped there, turned abruptly and leaned with her back to the rail so that he was facing her.
“I think you are angry with me?”
“Good gracious, no! Why should I be?”
“Because I was rude to your little Turk.”
“He’s not my little Turk.”
“But you are angry?”
“Of course not.”
She sighed. “You are very mysterious. You have still not told me why you are travelling on this boat. I am very interested to know. It cannot be because it is cheap. Your clothes are expensive!”
He could not see her face, only a vague outline of her; but he could smell the scent she was using, and the mustiness of the fur coat. He said: “I can’t think why you should be interested.”