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"It's a true story for all that. Only, I
say, don't talk of it before the others; let's keep our own counsel--"
"No poachers allowed on the Sun-Angel Manor!" interrupted Lorimer
gravely. Philip went on without heeding him.
"I'll question Valdemar Svensen after breakfast. He knows everybody
about here. Come and have a smoke on deck when I give you the sign, and
we'll cross-examine him."
Lorimer still looked incredulous. "What's the good of it?" he inquired
languidly. "Even if it's all true you had much better leave this
goddess, or whatever you call her, alone, especially if she has any mad
connections. What do _you_ want with her?"
"Nothing!" declared Errington, though hiss color heightened. "Nothing, I
assure you! It's just a matter of curiosity with me. I should like to
know who she is--that's all! The affair won't go any further."
"How do you know?" and Lorimer began to brush his stiff curly hair with
a sort of vicious vigor. "How can you tell? I'm not a spiritualist, nor
any sort of a humbug at all, I hope, but I sometimes indulge in
presentiments.


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