"I am sorry," she said earnestly. "It was silly of me."
He laughed and sat down. "You see, as eyes you can't afford to think. At other times perhaps I, too, should wander into abstractions, but at present it won't work."
"I know it," she admitted contritely. "I won't repeat it."
"What," he asked, "is the subject of all this meditation?"
She blushed, and her eyes darkened. She wondered whether she should tell the truth, started to do so, then changed her mind. "I was asking myself what my husband was probably doing and thinking."
"Poor fellow!" Lawrence was sincerely thoughtful. "I can imagine what it must be to him, supposing you lost at sea. Yes, he must be suffering badly. I don't believe I would change places with him."
Claire started at Lawrence. "Are you flattering me?" she asked coldly.
"Not at all," he replied. "I am merely stating the truth. I have an imagination, my dear lady. I can quite grasp your husband's position. You would certainly be a loss to a man who loved you, and I shouldn't care to be that man."
"Shouldn't you?" she said instinctively, and bit her lip for saying it.
"Not under the circumstances," answered Lawrence. "I never did fancy the idea of death visiting my loved ones. I have never got over its having done so."