“And last night?” he repeated questioningly.
“I found her on deck—crying. She had been tearing up some photographs, and she talked a little wildly. I talked to her then for a little time.”
“Can’t you be more explicit?” Wingrave asked.
Aynesworth looked him in the face.
“She gave me the impression,” he said, “that she did not intend to return to her husband.”
Wingrave nodded.
“And what have you to say to me about this?” he asked.
“I have no right to say anything, of course,” Aynesworth answered. “You might very properly tell me that it is no concern of mine. Mrs. Travers has already compromised herself, to some extent, with the people on board who know her and her family. She never leaves your side for a moment if she can help it, and for the last two or three days she has almost followed you about. You may possibly derive some amusement from her society for a short time, but—afterwards!”
“Explain yourself exactly,” Wingrave said.
“Is it necessary?” Aynesworth declared brusquely. “Talk sensibly to her! Don’t encourage her if she should really be contemplating anything foolish!”