"For what?" he asked in an equally low tone. "Have I asked any questions?" In a matter-of-fact voice he added: "It is growing late. If Miss Carstow has finished the inspection of your yacht, I suggest a return."
Benton recognized the other's refusal to read his motive. After all that was the best course; the only course. Pagratide stepped forward.
"Mr. Benton had the pleasure of driving you down—" he suggested, "may I have the same honor, returning?"
The girl met the eyes of the Prince, with defiance in her own.
"I am not a child!" she vehemently declared. "We may as well be honest with each other. If he had chosen to have it so, you could not have come aboard. I must obey the decrees of State!" She paused, then impulsively swept on: "I can force myself to do what I must do, but I cannot compel my heart—that is his, utterly his." She raised both hands. "Now you know," she said. "You may decide."
Karyl inclined his head.
"I have questioned nothing," he repeated. "Will you honor me by returning in my car?"
Cara tilted her chin rebelliously.
"No," she said, "I don't think I shall. My vacation ends to-morrow if you still wish it, but to-night it has not ended. I return with Mr. Benton."
Pagratide stiffened painfully, but with supreme self-mastery he forced a smile as though he had asked nothing more than a dance—and had found it engaged.