"I will! I will tell you a secret." "I will lock it in the furthest chamber of my inner consciousness." "I am going to America for a purpose." "Wonderful woman," he murmured, "to have a purpose." "I am going to get a divorce!" Mr. Sabin was suddenly thoughtful. "I have always understood," he said, "that the marriage laws of America are convenient." "They are humane. They make me thankful that I am an American." Mr. Sabin inclined his head slightly towards the smoking-room. "Does your unfortunate husband know?" "He does; and he acquiesces. He has no alternative. But is that quite nice of you, Mr. Sabin, to call my husband an unfortunate man?" "I cannot conceive," he said slowly, "greater misery than to have possessed and lost you." She laughed gaily. Mr. Sabin permitted himself to admire that laugh. It was like the tinkling of a silver bell, and her teeth were perfect. "You are incorrigible," she said. "I believe that if I would let you, you would make love to me." "If I thought," he answered, "that you would never allow me to make love to you, I should feel like following this cigar." He threw it into the sea. She sighed, and tapped her little French heel upon the deck. "What a pity that you are like all other men." "I will say nothing so unkind of you," he remarked. "You are unlike any other woman whom I ever met." They listened together to the bells sounding from the quarter deck. It was eleven o'clock. The deck behind them was deserted, and a fine drizzling rain was beginning to fall. Mrs. Watson removed the rug from her knees regretfully. "I must go," she said; "do you hear how late it is?" "You will tell me all about America," he said, rising and drawing back her chair, "to-morrow?" "If we can find nothing more interesting to talk about," she said, looking up at him with a sparkle in her dark eyes. "Good-night." Her hand, very small and white, and very soft, lingered in his. At that moment an unpleasant voice sounded in their ears. "Do you know the time, Violet? The lights are out all over the ship. I don't understand what you are doing on deck." Mr. Watson was not pleasant to look upon. His eyes were puffy, and swollen, and he was not quite steady upon his feet. His wife looked at him in cold displeasure. "The lights are out in the smoke-room, I suppose," she said, "or we should not have the pleasure of seeing you. Good-night, Mr. Sabin! Thank you so much for looking after me!" Mr. Sabin bowed and walked slowly away, lighting a fresh cigarette. If it was acting, it was very admirably done. CHAPTER XLIII THE COMING OF THE "KAISER WILHELM" The habit of early rising was one which Mr. Sabin had never cultivated, and breakfast was a meal which he abhorred. It was not until nearly midday on the following morning that he appeared on deck, and he had scarcely exchanged his customary greeting with the captain, before he was joined by Mr. Watson, who had obviously been on the look-out for him.