"Where could I run to--on the yacht? Besides, I've no wish for every one to know about this ridiculous scene," she added scornfully, with a downward glance at her prisoned wrist. His eyes glinted as he released his hold, but he allowed the contemptuous speech to pass without remark. She lifted her arm, frictioning her wrist where his grip had scored a red mark round it. A tumult of anger against him seethed inside her. Her lips felt soiled and she put up her hand and rubbed them distastefully. He interpreted the action with lightning swiftness. "No," he said, a note of grim triumph in his voice. "You can't undo it." "I wish," she said with quiet intensity, "I wish I'd never set foot on board your yacht." "It wouldn't have made a bit of difference," he assured her unconcernedly. "If it hadn't happened here, it would have happened somewhere else. Just as it doesn't matter in the least your refusing me--by the way, I suppose I'm to understand you _have_ refused me?"--mockingly. "Certainly I've refused you." "Very good. But even that won't make an atom of difference. You're going to marry me, you know, in the long run." "I'm not--" she began, then checked herself wearily. "Oh, don't let's go over it all again!" She was very pale, and there were dark shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes. "We won't," he replied amicably. "We'll go down and see how those reckless penny-a-hundred gamblers are getting on, instead." With one of the amazingly sudden transitions of which Ann had already discovered he was capable, he dismissed the whole matter as though it were of no importance, and, gathering up her wraps, preceded her in the direction of the companion-way. Here they were met by the bridge players. Their game finished, they were all coming up on deck, laughing and talking as they came. Ann drew back, nervously unprepared for the sudden encounter, but Brett covered her momentary confusion by genial inquiries as to who had won. "I've won two and fivepence," announced Miss Caroline in satisfied tones. She appeared supremely contented with the evening's harvest. "These tiresome people are talking of going, Brett," complained Lady Susan. "Do stop them." "Of course I'll stop them," he replied promptly. "They've all got to drink my health and good luck to the _Sphinx_ before they go. It's her birthday, to-day, by the way," he went on, addressing everybody collectively, "and I insist upon the occasion being properly honoured." He continued pouring out a stream of light-hearted nonsense, focussing every one's attention on himself, and thus giving Ann time to recover her poise. When, finally, she joined in the general conversation, she was quite composed once more, although she still looked somewhat pale and tired.