"Jocelyn Thew is very clever," she reminded him calmly.

"I am tired of being told so," he replied, with a touch of irritation in
his tone.

She smiled.

"You probably need your luncheon! If you care to come downstairs with me,"
she invited, "we can finish our conversation."

"I shall be only too pleased."

Katharine Beverley's table was in a quiet corner, and she sat with her back
to the window, but even under such circumstances the change in her during
the last few days was noticeable. There was a frightened light in her eyes,
her cheeks were entirely colourless, her hands seemed almost transparent.
Such a change in so short a time seemed almost incredible. Crawshay found
himself unable to ignore it.

"I am very sorry to see you looking so unwell," he observed
sympathetically. "I am afraid the shock of your voyage across the Atlantic
has been too much for you."

"I am terribly disturbed," she confessed. "I am disappointed, too, in Mr.
Jocelyn Thew. One hates to be made use of so flagrantly."

"You really knew nothing, then, until those things were discovered in your
stateroom?"

"That question," she replied, "I am not going to answer."