“Not good-bye at all!” Da Cunha exclaimed, turning and resting one hand on Nanette’s shoulder. “I am undecided until this morning, but now--it is settled! Here, in Madeira”--he indicated distant hills--“I have a bungalow, so charming. Do you know--” he included us all in the conversation--“that in Funchal is what they call a ‘blind spot’ in radio? Yes. But in my bungalow, high up, I have the most perfect set in the island; and one night--to-night, maybe--” he glanced aside at Nanette--“we shall dance to your Savoy band!” “You are going ashore, then?” “But certainly! It is settled. Is it not?” The question was addressed to Nanette, and: “I should just _hate_ to lose you so soon,” she replied. “Let’s go and see if your things are in the boat.” Side by side with the radiantly smiling Da Cunha, she hurried forward. She glanced at Jack, at me, at Ensleigh. O’Shea was watching her, but she avoided his gaze. He turned and went in at the saloon entrance. The last gong sounded. Jack had suddenly disappeared. I stared at Ensleigh. He whistled softly. “Nanette has been bitten at last,” he remarked. “Yes,” I said, “I think she has.” Da Cunha’s baggage was loaded into Reid’s launch and we all got aboard. We were surrounded by a babbling gang in boats who held up Madeira lace and cane chairs and shawls and bedspreads, desperately inviting bids from the passengers. It was distracting, so that I scarcely noticed a steward coming down the ladder, carrying a suitcase and a valise. Jack sat right astern, his hands plunged in the pockets of his sodden flannels. Then, suddenly, I realized that someone was beside me. I turned--and met the cold gray eyes of O’Shea! “Good heavens!” I exclaimed. “Your decision was a sudden one!” “Yes,” he replied, “it was--very.” “Hullo, O’Shea!” cried Ensleigh. “This is fine!” Nanette bent toward Da Cunha, talking animatedly. CHAPTER IV. AT THE CASINO A party of us went down to the Casino that night, consisting of Nanette, Nanette’s mother, Ensleigh, and myself. Jack excused himself on the plea that he had promised to play somebody five-hundred up. Nanette had been put through the hoop well and truly for her escapade, but she looked none the worse for this parental correction. Newly from the seclusion of a French convent, she was learning the dangerous truism that beauty governs mankind. Da Cunha was waiting at the Casino--and Nanette pretended to be surprised. Her mother really _was_ surprised, and maternally alarmed. She was a woman of the world and she knew her Da Cunhas. The said Da Cunha wanted to dance. Nanette loved dancing and danced divinely. Therefore she decided to play roulette. “Please, Mumsy,” she pleaded--“until I have lost a pound!” Her mother consented, silently signalling me to sit beside Nanette at the table. Whilst Nanette’s mother danced with Ensleigh, I chaperoned Nanette.