Armitage laughed cynically, and he made a gesture of impatience. His manner suddenly changed. He assumed the old tone of superiority which she had noticed when they first landed on the island.
"Don't deceive yourself," he said abruptly. "Some day things must be understood as they are, and it might just as well be now."
He stopped and looked at her strangely.
"What do you mean?" demanded Grace uneasily.
"I mean," he went on slowly, "that no ship will come. We shall never go back. The rest of our days must be spent here together."
He spoke with such authority, such conviction, that Grace felt that he had good grounds for what he said. Her face paled and a feeling of faintness came over her.
"How do you know?" she demanded, with tears in her eyes.
"I've known it all along," he replied.
"But didn't you say that whaling-vessels made these waters their fishing-grounds?" she persisted.
"I lied," he answered frankly. "I was sorry for you, so I invented that fiction."