"I don't want to think about it at all," she answered, rising. "I am not going to sit here any longer. We will walk a while, if you like."
They paced together up and down the deck. She asked him questions about the lights, the landing at Liverpool, the train service to London, and she kept always very near to one of the other promenading couples. At last she stopped before the companion-way, and held out her hand.
"This must be our good night," she said, "and good-bye if I do not see anything of you in the morning. I suppose it will be a terrible crush getting on shore."
"It will not be good-bye," he said, "because however great the rush is I shall see you in the morning. As for the rest, you have been very unkind to me to-night, but I can wait. London is not a large place. I dare say we shall meet again."
The look in her eyes puzzled him no less than her words.
"Oh! I hope not," she said fervently. "I don't want to meet any one in
London except one person. Good night, Mr. Mildmay!"
He turned away, and almost ran into the arms of Littleson, who had been watching them curiously.
"Come and have a drink," the latter said.
The two men made their way to the smoking room. Littleson lit a cigarette as he sipped his whisky and soda.
"Charming young lady, Miss Longworth," he remarked nonchalantly.