She nodded, and a faint smile played about the corners of her mouth.
"It was nothing very much," she said. "Of course, it was very harried at first and—what do you want?"
The last words were blurted out. She could not keep up the farce of a polite conversation.
There was a moment's silence, and then Tarling spoke.
"I wanted to find you," he said, speaking slowly, and again he read her fear.
"Well," she hesitated, and then said desperately and just a little defiantly, "you have found me!"
Tarling nodded.
"And now that you have found me," she went on, speaking rapidly, "what do you want?"
She was resting on her elbow, her strained face turned towards him, her eyes slightly narrowed, watching him with an intensity of gaze which betrayed her agitation.
"I want to ask you a few questions," said Tarling, and slipped a little notebook from his pocket, balancing it upon his knee.