"Do you mind walking on the lower deck?" she asked. "I want to talk to you, and I am sure that we shall be disturbed here."
"With pleasure!" I answered quickly. "I, too, have something to say to you."
We descended in silence to the promenade deck. Here we had the place almost to ourselves. Adèle did not beat about the bush.
"Mr. Courage," she said, "tell me what you thought when you saw me on this steamer!"
She looked me full in the face. Her beautiful eyes were full of anxiety. There was about her manner a nervousness which I had never before noticed. Her cheeks were paler, and with these indications of emotion, something of the mystery which had seemed to me always to cling to her personality had departed. She was more natural—more lovable.
"I thought," I answered, "that it was part of the game!—that you were here to watch me. Isn't that the natural conclusion?"
"Mr. Courage," she said, "please look at me."
I faced her at once. Her eyes were fixed upon mine.
"I am not here to watch you," she said quietly. "I came because I have decided to go back to my home in America, and live there quietly for a time. Whatever share I had in the events which led to Leslie Guest's death, these things do not interest me any more. I have finished."
"I congratulate you," I answered.