"I was referring to my attitude towards your sex," he replied.

There was a faint twinkle in her eyes.

"That sounds so ponderous," she murmured. "Don't you like us, then?"

"There are circumstances in my life," he said, "which prevent my even
considering the subject."

She turned and looked him full in the eyes. Her very sweet mouth was
suddenly pathetic, her eyes were full of gentle resentment.

"I do not believe," she said firmly, "that you have done a single
thing in life of which you ought to be ashamed. I do not believe one
of the hard things you have said about yourself. I am not a child. I
am a woman--twenty-six years old--and I like to choose my own friends.
I should like you to be my friend, Mr. Thew."

He murmured a few words entirely conventional. Nothing in his
expression responded in the least to the appeal of her words. His face
had grown like granite. He turned to the purser, who was strolling
by. As though unconsciously, the finer qualities of his voice had gone
as he engaged the latter in some trivial conversation.




CHAPTER VIII