"I suppose they can," I said. "I quite forgot that there was anyone
else in the world."
She came forward into the room.
"Besides," she added with a smile, "tea will be up in one moment.
They told me that you were waiting till I arrived, so I ordered it
while I was in the shop."
"You're not going to run away again at once, are you?" I demanded
anxiously. "There are a whole heap of things I want to talk to you
about."
The troubled expression that I had seen before came back suddenly
into her face.
"I mustn't stay very long--not more than half an hour at the most."
"Half an hour!" I repeated in dismay. "You can't possibly have tea
in half an hour! Why, it's frightfully dangerous to try and drink
hot things in a hurry."
Before I could make any further protests I was interrupted by the
creak of footsteps laboriously ascending the stairs. There was a
chink and rattle of cups and then, panting slightly from her
exertions, the lady of the shop emerged into view, heavily burdened
with an immense tray.
She set this down on the table, and surveyed us with a motherly smile.
"If there's anything else you fancy, p'raps you'll give me a call
over the banisters," she said. "My sister's gone to a funeral
to-day, and I'm all alone in the shop."
I gazed at the staggering collection of pastries which we were
apparently expected to consume, and hazarded an opinion that they
would probably see us through.
"Well, don't be frightened of 'em, my dear," she said, addressing
Christine. "They're all home made. You can eat as many as you like
without takin' no harm."
She left the room again, closing the door behind her, and, having
inspected the various chairs at our disposal, I brought forward the
one which looked the least uncomfortable.
"You pour out tea," I said, placing it in position. "I'm so tired of
doing it for myself."
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.
"No, no," she said wretchedly. "You mustn't speak like that. If
anything happened to you I should feel that--" Her hand gripped the
arm of the chair until the skin stood out white over her knuckles.
"Oh," she ended, almost with a sob, "I don't know what to do. It's
all so hopelessly complicated and difficult."