"Perhaps I know the reason," she suggested.
He looked at her suspiciously.
"Perhaps it is that you are not anxious to meet Mr. Morton again."
"Is he here?"
"He is one of the guests at our island."
Kellogg lifted his ungraceful bulk abruptly from his chair and walked to the rail, where he stood for a moment gazing down at the water.
"I beg your pardon," he said, turning. "I—I didn't intend to be rude. But it was a sort of surprise, you know."
"I didn't know there had been a quarrel."
"Oh, no; not a quarrel exactly. But—"
"You are afraid it may be embarrassing."