"There is nothing," and now the yachtsman could not help noticing the
coldness in Viola's voice. He seemed to nerve himself for an effort as
he said:

"Viola" - he paused a moment before adding - "why can't we be
friends? You were decent enough to me some days ago, and now - Have
I done anything - said anything? I want to be friends with you.
I want to be - "

He took a step nearer her, but she drew back.

"Please don't think, Captain Poland, that I am not appreciative of what
you have done for me," the girl said quickly. "But - Oh, I really don't
know what to think. It has all been so terrible."

"Indeed it has," said the captain, in a low voice. "But I would like to
help."

"Then perhaps you can !" suddenly exclaimed Viola, and there was a new
note in her voice. "Have you been to see Harry Bartlett in - in jail?"
and she faltered over that word.

"No, I have not," said the captain, and there was a sharp tone in his
answer. "I understood no one was allowed to see him."

"That is true enough," agreed Viola. "They wouldn't let me see him, and
I wanted to - so much. I presume you know how he comes to be in prison."

"It isn't exactly a prison."