"Good heavens!" he said. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she returned, with a sort of choked vehemence. "There's
nothing the matter with me. Only I'm feeling badly about--about what I
asked you to do yesterday. I'd sooner have lost every dollar I have in
the world, if I had only known, than--than have you do--what you did."

"Good heavens!" West said again.

He waited a little then, looking down at her as she leaned upon the rail
with downcast face. At length, as she did not raise her head, he
addressed her for the first time on his own initiative:

"Miss Mortimer!"

She made a slight movement to indicate that she was listening, but she
remained gazing down into the green and white of the racing water.

Unconsciously he moved a little nearer to her. "There is no occasion for
you to feel badly," he said. "I had my own reasons for what I did. It
doesn't much matter what they were. But let me tell you for your comfort
that neither socially nor professionally has it done me any harm."

"They are all saying: 'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" she interposed,
with something like a sob in her voice.

"They can say what they like."

West's tone expressed the most stoical indifference, but she would not