She glanced at her watch. "We have left it rather late," she admitted. "I have been doing some commissions for my uncle, and they kept me a good deal longer than I expected." She looked up at me with a slight trace of anxiety. "I suppose there is really no danger of our missing the ship?" she asked.
I shook my head. "None at all. If there were I should have taken a taxi. We shall be at Leixoes by half-past five, and it's only a ten minutes' row to where the Neptune's lying."
"Provided that we can get a boat," she added.
"Oh, there'll be no difficulty about that," I said. "There are generally plenty on the beach, and if it came to the worst we could always signal to the ship."
My reassurances seemed to have the desired effect, for she leaned back in her seat with a relieved expression, and obviously dismissed the matter from her thoughts.
It is not an easy thing to carry on a natural and unbroken conversation in a Portuguese tram, handicapped as one is by the pace at which the vehicle travels and the perpetual gong-ringing in which all drivers so joyously indulge. Still, considering the difficulties under which we laboured, we certainly got along together remarkably well. Long before we reached Leixoes I was in full agreement with Ross's statement that my companion was just as charming to talk to as she was beautiful to look at, and all the way I was secretly blessing the lucky accident which had given me the chance of making her acquaintance.
One thing I noticed, however, and that was that although she talked freely about the voyage and about her impressions of Oporto, she made no further reference either to her uncle or to her own affairs. I need hardly add that I was particularly careful to avoid saying anything which might sound like an attempt to introduce either topic, but the fact only strengthened my previous opinion that her self-imposed solitude on board was due to some private reason rather than to any natural aversion to society.
This belief was increased by the faint but curious suggestion of reserve which seemed to linger in the background, even when she was speaking about the most unimportant matters. It gave me the impression that she regarded our conversation as a sort of unexpected holiday—a holiday which for some mysterious reason she had no real right to indulge in. Its only effect, however, was to render her still more attractive, and I felt quite resentful against the unnecessary efficiency of the Portuguese tram service, when we gonged our way noisily into Leixoes five minutes after the appointed time for our arrival.
Disentangling ourselves from the rest of the company, we made our way down to the beach. Out in the harbour we could see the Neptune busily engaged in getting up steam, while a few trading boats still clustered round her side, making a final effort to coax money out of her now wary passengers.
As we reached the shore a swarthy and rather truculent-looking gentleman, decorated with silver ear-rings, came forward to meet us.