"I suppose she is angry with me," said Brett to Marion. "What did I say? I was thinking of something else."
"Then why did you choose that moment for speaking of her?" asked Mrs. Darche reproachfully. "You really must take care, you will make enemies."
"Of course. What does it matter?"
"It matters to me, if you make enemies of my friends."
"That is different," said Brett. "But seriously—do not people forgive a lack of tact sometimes—being a little absent-minded? Look at Jim Brown."
"That is quite another thing," Marion answered. "Yes—I heard what he was telling as we came into the room after the luncheon. Of course it was tactless. Of course no man in his senses should talk in a loud tone, before me, of a man falling overboard at sea and being drowned, still less—"
"What?" asked Brett.
A short pause followed the question, and when Marion answered it, it was evident that she was making an effort.
"Still less of the possibility that such a man might be heard of again some day."
"That at least is improbable," said Brett, very gravely.