Without saying anything, Christine seated herself in front of the tray. She paused for a moment to take off her gloves, while I dragged up a second chair, and, sitting down alongside, contemplated her with unspeakable contentment.
"I hope you're not very angry with me about yesterday," I said. "Spying behind hedges isn't really a habit of mine; in fact it's the first time I have ever tried anything of the sort."
She finished pouring out the tea and handed me across my cup.
"No," she answered, "I am not angry with you; why should I be? You have every reason for feeling suspicious about us, and every right to do exactly what you think best."
She spoke almost wearily, and there was a touch of bitterness in her voice that gave me an uncomfortable sense of guilt.
"Christine," I said, "I want to settle this business once and for all. As far as you and I are concerned, there must be no chance of a misunderstanding." I paused. "I don't know in the least what the trouble is in connection with Greensea Island, or what your uncle has got to do with it. It's quite clear that there's some infernal mystery, however, and, judging by what happened in the docks, I seem to be playing rather an important part in it."
Her brown eyes, full of distress, were looking straight back into mine.
"Yes," she said in a low voice. "You are in great danger. I told you so the other day."
"I know you did," I replied cheerfully, "and you can be quite sure I haven't forgotten your warning. I like this planet, and I mean to stop on it as long as I can, but there's just one thing I want you to realise. I would allow myself to be murdered twenty times over rather than do anything in the world which was the least likely to injure you."
The distress in her face became deeper than ever.