Yesterday he had determined, as a measure of precaution, not to speak to her until they had taken their places on the boat. However, as soon as Simon saw her step out of the car, he ran to meet her. She was wrapped in a grey cloak and carried a rug rolled in a strap. A sailor followed with her travelling-bag.
"Excuse me, Isabel," said Simon, "but something so serious has happened that I am bound to consult you. The telegrams, in fact, mention a whole series of catastrophes which have occurred precisely in the part which we shall have to cross."
Isabel did not seem much put out:
"You're saying this, Simon, in a very calm tone which does not match your words at all."
"It's because I'm so happy!" he murmured.
Their eyes met in a long and penetrating glance. Then she continued:
"What would you do, Simon, if you were alone?"
And, when he hesitated what to answer:
"You would go," she said. "And so should I. . . ."
She stepped onto the gangway.