"Not clearly."
"Well, then, I shall make myself clear. The sight of you upon that bank, the lights in your face, struck me as the strangest mystery that could possibly confront me. I thought you were a ghost."
"A ghost?"
"Yes. So I asked the purser to introduce you to prove to my satisfaction that you weren't a ghost. Line for line, height for height, color for color, you are the exact counterpart of the man I am going home to marry."
She saw the shiver that ran over him; she saw his eyes widen; she saw his hands knot in pressure over the rail.
"The man you are going to marry!" he whispered.
Abruptly, without explanation, he walked away, his shoulders settled, his head bent. It was her turn to be amazed. What could this attitude mean?
"Mr. Warrington!" she called.
But he disappeared down the companionway.