“I must,” she answered. “I dare say it will not be so rough this time.”
The smile died; he shook his head impatiently. “No, you can’t do that. There’s no going home now.”
She looked startled. “Where else can I go? I must go home.”
“You can’t,” he repeated. “Do you realize you’ve been in my company since yesterday? My poor girl, it’s you who are ruined, not Sophia.”
She said placidly: “But I am not ruined. I can think of some tale to tell that will satisfy people.”
He gave a short laugh. “Once it’s known you were aboard my yacht, no one will believe you innocent, my dear,” he said.
“But no one need — ” She stopped, remembering the note she had left for her mother.
He read her thought. “Left a letter, did you? Of course you did! What woman ever did not?”
She felt abashed, and said nothing. He came back to the fireplace, and stood scowling down at her. “Let’s finish this bout with buttons off,” he said. “I don’t care to make mistakes. The fault may be mine, but what business have you with a mother — with a sister such as Sophia?”
“Sir,” said Miss Challoner, giving nun a very straight look, “I don’t design to be thought above mamma or Sophia.”