'I can sleep all the way across the North Sea. Don't think of me, Brenda; I'm outside the question altogether.'
He stopped, with a worried look upon his face, but did not raise his eyes. Had he done so he would inevitably have noticed a heightened colour in her cheeks, although she turned aside and gazed at nothing in particular.
'What bothers me,' he continued, 'is you and Mrs. Wylie and the Hermione. What will you do?'
'I will take the Hermione home,' she said with gentle confidence. 'You can safely leave Mrs. Wylie to me.'
'I know I can, but I do not want to leave you to Mrs. Wylie. It is putting too much on your shoulders.'
She shrugged the graceful members in question, and gave a little short laugh.
'They are strong,' she answered carelessly. 'Besides, there is no choice in the matter. I simply must be left in charge because there is no one else. It seems to me that the matter in question is...' she glanced towards the closed door of Trist's late state-room, where Admiral Wylie kept his silent watch—'is whether Mrs. Wylie will consent to Fjaerholm or not.'
'Can I see her?'
'No ... no, Theo. I think it is better not. She is so strange and natural that I am afraid the sight of you might have some serious effect. Even in her dreams she is constantly recalling the sight of you ... coming down the little path ... with him in your arms. You remember—just beside the big rock where it was too narrow for you both to carry him.'
'Yes,' he replied in a voice that might well have been rendered purposely careless. 'Yes, I remember.'