"I think it wouldn't hurt you to give me a straight answer, old boy," he
said, a flicker of something that was not mischief in his eyes.

Fisher faced him instantly.

"What is it you want to know?" he inquired bluntly.

"This only," Charlie said, with perfect steadiness. "Are you going in
for Miss Erle in solid earnest or are you not? I want to know your
intentions, that's all."

"I can't enlighten you, then," returned Fisher.

Charlie laughed without effort.

"Cautious old duffer!" he said. "Well, tell me this! I've no right to
ask it. Only somehow I've got to know. You care for her, don't you?"

Fisher looked at him keenly for a moment. "Why do you ask?" he said.

"Oh, it's infernal impertinence, of course. I admit that," said Charlie,
his tanned face growing suddenly red. "I suspected it, you see, ages
ago--on board ship, in fact. Is it true, then?"

Fisher turned abruptly from him, and began to wind his watch with
extreme care. He spoke at length with his back turned on Charlie, who
was waiting with extraordinary patience for his answer.

"Yes," he said deliberately. "It is true."