Evelyn understood him. He would not ask her to keep a secret from her father, and she liked his delicacy; but he looked thoughtful. She did not know that the Cuban gentleman engaged his attention.
"Well," she said, "I'll tell him if it seems necessary; that is, if there's any reason for sending you word. Otherwise, of course, there would be no need to mention it."
"No," he agreed with a smile that seemed to draw them closer because it hinted at mutual understanding.
"One doesn't feel forced to explain things to you," Evelyn said impulsively.
"That's an advantage. Explanations are a nuisance, and sometimes dangerous when they're important. I find them easiest when they don't matter."
Cliffe came in and greeted Grahame cordially; and Grahame, glancing down the table without turning his head, saw the Cuban studying them. Something in the man's manner suggested that Cliffe's friendliness had surprised him. He made a few hasty pencil marks on the back of an old letter and then, looking up suddenly, caught Grahame watching him curiously. The Cuban pushed back his chair and left the room, although Grahame suspected that his dinner was not more than half finished.
Evelyn, surprising the alert look on Grahame's face, was now more disturbed than ever on his account. Evidently there was danger for him here.
Her fears would have been increased had she known the few words the spy wrote on his envelope.