“Flo only. I’ve been going to stay with them two or three times, though for one reason or another it has always fallen through. I was at school with Flo—Flo Salter, she was then.”
“By Jove! Archie is rather a pal of mine. Comes out yachting sometimes. A good sort.”
“I’ve never met him, but I used to chum with Flo. Congratulations, Mr. Cheyne.”
Cheyne stared at her and she smiled gaily across.
“You haven’t said that the world is very small after all,” she explained.
Cheyne laughed.
“I didn’t think of it or I should,” he admitted. “But I hope you will come down to the Beresfords. I’d love to take you out in my yacht—that is, if you like yachting.”
“That’s a promise,” the girl declared. “If I come I shall hold you to it.”
When tea was removed and cigarettes were alight she returned to the subject of his adventure.
“Yes,” Cheyne answered, “I should like to tell you the whole story if it really wouldn’t bore you. But,” he hesitated for a second, “you won’t mind my saying that it is simply desperately private. No hint of it must get out.”