"It will make very little difference either way," he assured her. "We
rather expected him to die."

"And you won't take me any further into your confidence?"

"No further. Your task will be completed at Liverpool. So long as you
leave this steamer in company with the doctor and the ambulance, if
Phillips is still alive, you will be free to return home whenever
you please."

"Very well," she said. "You see, I accept my position. I shall go
through with what I have promised, whatever Mr. Crawshay may say.
Won't you in return treat me, if not as a confederate, as a friend?"

He turned and looked at her, met the appealing glance of her soft eyes
for a moment and looked suddenly away.

"I do not belong to the ranks of those, Miss Beverley, from whom it is
well for you to choose your friends."

"But why should I not make my own choice?" she insisted. "I have
always been my own mistress. I have lived with my own ideas, I have
declined to be subject to any one's authority. I am an independent
person. Can't you treat me as such?"

"There are facts," he said, "which can never be ignored. You belong to
the world of wealthy, gently born men and women who comprise what is
called Society. I belong, and have belonged all my life, to a race of
outcasts." "Don't!" she begged.