She looked up at him and smiled, then down again, then up once more, and he kissed her.
“Oh, don’t!” she cried. “There is some one coming!” A knock sounded at the door, and Miss Berrington sprang down from the table.
“Your foot has touched the electric bell that is under the carpet,” she whispered quickly, with a nervous laugh; then “Come in!” she cried, and the servant entered.
Steele was turning the pages of a magazine; Constance Berrington stood in the middle of the floor.
“Did you ring, miss?”
“Yes, tell the captain to get the yacht ready. I am going to Duluth.”