"I know," Jake said, looking down at her. "He's made the most of 'em too."
Her face quivered. "Don't," she said. "It—isn't it rather ungenerous to condemn a man unheard?"
Jake made a faint sound of contempt or scepticism, but no reply in words.
She drew herself up out of her chair by his arm. "Jake, I want you to do something for me."
"Well?" said Jake uncompromisingly.
She met his look unswervingly. "Let me be a friend to him tonight! Let me be alone with him and find out—if he will tell me—whether there is any truth in this rumour that there was a woman on board the yacht."
"And when you've found out?" said Jake.
She made a little gesture of appeal. "Will you leave that to me? I have sometimes felt that I might be—a help to him if ever there came an opportunity. Jake, you don't mind my trying to help him? I have a feeling that I understand him better than most people do."
"I think it's a wasted sentiment," Jake said. "But—do what seems good to you, my girl! I shan't interfere."
"And you won't be vexed?" she pleaded.