"Not afraid of seasickness?"
"No. Why?"
"Because," said Staff soberly, "I've been praying for a hurricane."
She nodded again without speaking, her eyes alone questioning.
"Mrs. Thataker," he pursued evenly, "confided to me at dinner that she
is a very poor sailor indeed."
Miss Searle laughed quietly. "You desire a punishment to fit the
crime."
"There are some crimes for which no adequate punishment has ever been
contrived," he returned, beginning to see his way, and at the same time
beginning to think himself uncommonly clever.
"Oh!" said Miss Searle with a little laugh. "Now if you're leading up to
a second apology about that question of the bandbox, you needn't,
because I've forgiven you already."
He glanced at her reproachfully. "You just naturally had to beat me to
that, didn't you?" he complained. "All the same, it _was_ inexcusable of
me."
"Oh, no; I quite understood."
"You see," he persisted obstinately, "I really did think it was my
bandbox. I actually have got one with me, precisely like yours."
"I quite believed you the first time."
Something in her tone moved him to question her face sharply; but he
found her shadowed eyes inscrutable.
"I half believe you know something," he ventured, perplexed.
"Perhaps," she nodded, with an enigmatic smile.
"What do you know?"
"Why," she said, "it was simple enough. I happened to be in Lucille's
yesterday afternoon when a hat was ordered delivered to you."
"You were! Then you know who sent it to me?"
"Of course." Her expression grew curious. "Don't you?"
"No," he said excitedly. "Tell me."