“Sister Anne, Sister Anne, is there anybody coming?” said the deep bass voice in her ear, and she turned towards him with a shrug.
“No! But I was looking to see if there were! I want to introduce you to Mr Keith and Mrs Mannering, the lady who shares my cabin.”
He did not reply, and Katrine looking down in surprise, caught a frowning of the forehead and pursing of the lips which betrayed obvious disapproval. He met her glance, and smiled back with an attempt at alacrity which was far from convincing.
“Certainly. If you wish—”
“You don’t want to know them? You would rather not?”
He frowned again, hesitating over the words.
“Honestly, I don’t. I am not in a sociable mood. I look upon these few days at sea as a holiday, when there is no reason why I should exert myself against my will. I was relieved to find that there are so few military people on board, and if a man joins a ship half-way, doesn’t play bridge, and abjures deck games, it’s an easy matter to be left alone. I promised myself never to enter the smoke-room until we reach Bombay, or to make an unnecessary acquaintance, but naturally your friends must be the exception. Only—there’s plenty of time! Don’t drag me into a vortex of sociability.”
Katrine laughed at that, but the laugh turned into a grimace.
“There is no vortex around met It comes to this, that if you know me and my friends, you will know no one else! Mr Keith is taboo. I’ve explained why, and Mrs Mannering is—is—” The while she sought for words, the blood rose in her cheek. She was embarrassingly conscious that Bedford noticed it, and that his interest was heightened thereby.
“Is?” he queried, urging the confidence. “Is?”