“Chanler is himself again,” I said. “You remember I said he would be.”
Betty sat with her chin in her hands, thinking. Her eyes were turned in my direction, but she was seeing beyond me without noticing my presence. Suddenly she spoke the words that brought upon us the great crisis.
“I won’t have George risking his life on my account. I can’t bear that. I won’t have it.”
XXXV
For a moment after she spoke I experienced a sensation as if the sound, comfortable earth had dropped away from beneath me, a sensation of a great fall into a void. Then followed the impression that after all, Betty was a stranger; that I did not know her at all.
“I won’t have George risking his life for me,” she repeated quietly. “I—I’ll go back on board before that.”
I went from cold to warm. Freddy tried to speak and I silenced him with a look. When I spoke, my voice was hoarse and heavy.
“Miss Baldwin, you will not go aboard until Brack is beaten, and the yacht is in our possession. I am responsible to Chanler for your safety.”
There followed a trying period of silence.
“Why—why, Mr. Pitt!” Betty finally tried to laugh, but the grimness of my expression must have convinced her that laughter was out of place. “That was the first rude speech you have made. Do you realize how rude it was?”