ut Bell paused, lit a cigarette carefully, and strolled forward.
"Mr. Bell."
He stopped and beamed fatuously at her. It would have been logical for him to fall in love with her, and it is always desirable to seem logical. He had striven painstakingly to give the impression that he had fallen in love with her—and then had striven even more painstakingly to keep from doing it.
"Hullo," he said in bland surprise. "What are you doing out on deck?"
Brown eyes regarded him speculatively.
"Thinking," she said succinctly. "About you, Mr. Bell."
Bell beamed.
"Thinking," he confided, "is usually a bad habit, especially in a girl. But if you must think, I approve of your choice of subjects. What were you thinking about me?"
The brown eyes regarded him still more speculatively.
"I was wondering—" said Paula, glancing to either side, "I was wondering if you happen to be—er—a member of the United States Secret Service."