Going back to my place in the stern, I reseated myself beside Miss de Roda.
"You have made me change my opinion," she said, in a delightfully tranquil voice. "In future I shall attach more importance to first impressions."
"I hope you didn't mind," I answered apologetically. "I couldn't think of anything else to do for the moment."
She shook her head, with the same gleam of amusement in her eyes that I had seen before.
"On the contrary," she said, "I am extremely obliged to you. I have the greatest possible objection to being cheated." She paused, and, bending sideways, looked out ahead of us. "I wonder if anybody on the ship saw what happened," she added. "There seem to be several people leaning over the side."
I fancied I could detect a faint trace of anxiety in her voice, as though she rather dreaded the possibility she referred to.
"I don't suppose so," I said comfortingly. "The sun's in their eyes, and we were some distance off."
"It's only my uncle I am thinking of," she exclaimed. "As long as no one says anything to him it doesn't matter in the least. He is not very well, you know, and I shouldn't like him to be upset or—or annoyed."
She brought out the last word with some hesitation, and then stopped, as though rather regretting that she had made use of it.
"I'm sure it will be all right," I repeated. "There's something very deceptive about the Portuguese atmosphere. If anybody imagines they saw anything, I shall let them know that they were making a mistake."