"Can't I? If you interfere with other people's love affairs, you must be prepared to take the consequences. In this case the consequence is supper with me." Cara hesitated. She could not struggle with him, and in his present mood she thought it quite possible he might oppose with actual physical force any attempt on her part to leave the yacht. If he did, of course, she would be perfectly helpless. Forcing herself to a composure she was far from feeling, she turned away from the door he was guarding with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I've no wish to have supper with you," she said. "No? Yet, after all, it's you who've despoiled me of my rightful guest," he returned, with bland mockery in eyes and voice. "It's certainly up to you to provide a substitute. Perhaps"--banteringly--"we might even discuss the question of those notes of hand again--later on! A man's obstinacy sometimes melts as the evening advances, you know." A faint hope stirred in Cara's heart. Perhaps, if she yielded to his wishes now, without further argument, she might be able, later on, to induce him to reconsider his decision--to persuade him to be merciful. He seemed to read her thoughts with an uncanny insight. "You'll stay?" he said. She nodded, and he helped off the heavy fur wrap she was wearing. Then he pressed the bell-push and, when Achille appeared, gave a curt order for supper to be served. As the Frenchman departed his quick eyes flickered a moment over Cara's beautiful face and milk-white shoulders. Decidedly, he reflected, his master had good taste. The supper, as might have been expected, was a very perfectly chosen repast, and as the meal progressed Cara was fain to acknowledge that Brett knew how to act the part of host most charmingly. On her side she played up pluckily, hoping that by falling in with his humour she might yet win the odd trick of the game. It was not until they had reached the coffee and cigarette stage that he reverted to the avowed object of her visit to the yacht. "It was really rather a sporting attempt on your part," he remarked, "even though foredoomed to failure. Will you tell me"--curiously--"what induced you to do it?" "I'm very fond of Ann," returned Cara evasively. He shook his head. "I don't think that can have been all. You were running"--he regarded her through narrowed lids--"a pretty big risk, and you're woman of the world enough to know it. You are quite at my mercy, you see. A woman doesn't run that kind of risk--for another woman." He leaned across the little table, his compelling blue eyes concentrated on her face. "Do tell me why you did it?" For a moment she was silent. Then, lifting her eyes to meet his, she said simply: "I did it because once--years ago--I robbed Eliot Coventry of his happiness. I wanted to give it back to him." "And you were prepared to risk your reputation over the job?"--swiftly. "Yes," she answered quietly. "I was prepared."