“No, I couldn't. You can't always plan things.”
“Well, you said—”
“Rocky, please! You mustn't talk like that. We can be seen.”
“Well—” he closed his lips. It was the first time she had called him by his name. That seemed something. And she was right; they must keep up appearances. He felt that she was extremely clever; living her own life as a business woman, away out here, doing as she chose, like a man, never losing her head for a moment. Well, he would show her that he could be a sport.
“Kato picked up some queer news this morning, prowling around. There's a mutiny brewing below decks. He hasn't got all the facts, yet. He's down there now. It's the viceroy's soldiers. First thing we know they'll be blowing up the boat.” He was gloomy about it; boyishly turning his heavy burden of self-pity and reproach into the new channel.
“Well,” said she, “we'll all have to take our chances, I suppose,” and moved away a step, pausing and balancing gracefully on the balls of her feet and smiling at him.
“Wait,” he muttered—“don't go!”
“It's better. No good in our being seen too much together—”
“Too much?”
“I'll save you some dances to-night.”