Hugh was visibly annoyed. There was to be more trouble from the nobleman; evidently he did not intend to keep his promise.
"In the first place," she continued, "I must acknowledge that I forced from my husband an account of last night's affair; he also told me your name. But, believe me, it will go no further. I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Ridgeway," the color stealing into her cheeks.
Ridgeway bowed.
"In the next place," she went on playfully, "you are very jealous of Mr. Veath. Tut, tut, yes you are," with a gesture of protest. "He thinks Miss Ridge is your sister, and she is not your sister. And lastly, nobody on board knows these facts but the very bright woman who is talking to you at this moment."
"But you are mistaken, madam," with a last attempt at assumption of dignity.
"Would I say this to you if I were not positive? You think you are very clever; I'll admit that you are. Your secrets came to me through an accident. Do not think that I have pried into your affairs. They really forced themselves upon me."
"Tell me what you know, for Heaven's sake," cried the dismayed Ridgeway.
"I was in your sister's room earlier in the day. Her trunk was open and I saw a portfolio with Vernon in silver lettering; and I was more mystified than ever when I observed that the initials on her trunk were 'G.V.' All day yesterday I tried to solve the problem, taking into consideration the utter absence of family resemblance between you, and I was almost sick with curiosity. To-day I was convinced that her name is not Ridge. She inadvertently signed her name to the purser's slip in my presence, and she did not sign the--yours. She scratched it out quickly and asked him to make out another one. Now, what is this mystery?" She bent her gaze upon his face and he could not meet it.
"Do you want to know the reason why I did not see you yesterday?" she continued.
"Yes," he murmured, mopping his brow.