"I—I thought we were on the yacht! I—I—I never meant to go to sleep here! I came to speak to you, sir. I wanted to see you."
He put a restraining hand upon her thin young shoulder, and his touch vibrated as with some unknown force controlled.
"All right, Nonette!" he said, and his voice had the same quality; it was reassuring but oddly unsteady. "Sorry I kept you waiting."
She looked at him. Her face was quivering. "I've had—a hell of a time," she said pathetically. "Been here hours—thought you'd never come. Your man—your man said I wasn't to disturb you."
"Damn the fool!" said Saltash.
She broke into a breathless laugh. "That's—that's just what I said. But I thought—I thought perhaps—you'd rather—rather I waited." She shivered suddenly. "I don't like this place. Can you take me somewhere else?"
He bent lower, put his hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. She came up from the couch with a spring, and stood before him, half-daring and half-shy.
Saltash kept his hold upon her arm, and turned her towards the wall beside the tall mantel-piece. She went with him readily enough, watching, eager-eyed, as he stretched his free hand up to the oak panelling.
"Now I'm going to find out all your secrets!" she said boyishly.
"Not quite all," said Saltash.