"Oh, if you had a low motive in trying to make a fool of me, you know too well how to hide your motive from such a fool."
In a fugitive seizure of thoughtfulness the violet eyes lost all their impishness. She sighed, the bright head drooped a little toward the gleaming bosom, a hand stole out to rest lightly upon his once again.
"It was not acting, Michael--I tell you that frankly--at least, not all acting."
"Meaning, I take it, you know love too well to make it artlessly."
"I'm afraid so, my dear," said Liane Delorme with another sigh. "You know: I am afraid of you. You see everything so clearly..."
"It's a vast pity. I wish I could outgrow it. One misses so many amusing emotions when one sees too clearly."
During another brief pause, Lanyard saw Monk come on deck, pause, and search them out, in the chairs they occupied near the taffrail, much as on that other historic night. Not that he experienced any difficulty in locating them; for this time the decklights were burning clearly. Nevertheless, Captain Monk confessed emotion at sight of those two in a quite perceptible start; and Lanyard saw the eyebrows tremendously agitated as their manipulator moved aft.
Unconscious of all this, Liane ended her pensive moment by leaning toward Lanyard and making demoralizing eyes, while the hand left his and stole with a caressing gesture up his forearm.
"Is love, then, distasteful to you unless it be truly artless, Michael?"
"There's so much to be said about that, Liane," he evaded.