"Annette!" gasped Mrs. Livingstone; but Annette carried all before her like a young spring storm.
Payne had not contemplated a start until near evening, but within half an hour he found himself beside the girl leaning over the port rail of the Egret and watching the water curl away from her gleaming bows as the boat slipped swiftly downstream toward Gumbo Key.
"I was suffocating back there," she explained. "I had to get away. Yes, Aunty; I'll come out of the sun in a minute—Mr. Payne, I want to thank you for the way you lied to my father about being satisfied with your land. Why did you do it?"
He turned to her, intending to laugh the matter away, but as he met her look, his eyes betrayed him.
"Why did you do it?" she whispered.
Payne looked away; and there was no need for him to speak.
"Oh, no!" she whispered. "Oh, no, no, no, no!"
There was a long silence. At last he heard her stifle a sob and looked round. Annette was walking aft toward the cabin with slow, dragging steps.
"My dear Annette!" cried Mrs. Livingstone and Senator Fairclothe together as they saw her face, but she pushed past them and disappeared in the cabin.
"Sir!" began the Senator indignantly. "May I ask you for an explanation?"