"Yes—and you suffered for it. I didn't quite understand then that sealing the evidence in the divorce, while it was supposed to protect me, really left you no chance to clear yourself."
"Naturally not," he smilingly rejoined. "You weren't a lawyer, you know. But it must pain you to discuss these things and I'm not asking any explanation. Why shouldn't we let them rest in peace?"
Her face flushed a little and she seemed on the point of argument, but she only said: "Yes, I suppose that is better."
The evening before the Nippon Maru was due in the Hawaiian port there was no moon, but all the softly blazing stars of the tropics were kindled in the sky and the phosphor waters of the Pacific played in an exquisite echo of light. Marian Holbury, in her simplicity of white skirt and white blouse looked as young as a school girl and, Stuart thought, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. They sat together on the after-deck which, as it chanced, they held in monopoly and the woman said musingly:
"To-morrow we part company, don't we?"
"I'm afraid so," he answered. "My ticket reads to Honolulu."
"I suppose I should thank you," she continued in the same pensiveness of manner. "I guess your unbroken reserve was meant for considerateness."
"Under the circumstances," he replied, a shade piqued by her tone, "anything else might have been embarrassing—for you."
With eyes traveling seaward she spoke again and there was a ghost of quiet irony in her voice.
"That seems to be a thing a man's chivalry never leaves to a woman's own judgment; the determination of what she may find embarrassing."