I smiled at him gently, and as if encouraged or provoked, he completed his thought rather explosively.
"And that girl understands nothing.

.

.

It's sheer lunacy." "I don't know," I said, "whether the circumstances of isolation at sea would be any alleviation to the danger.

But it's certain that they shall have the opportunity to learn everything about each other in a lonely _tete-a-tete_." "But dash it all," he cried in hollow accents which at the same time had the tone of bitter irony--I had never before heard a sound so quaintly ugly and almost horrible--"You forget Mr.Smith." "What Mr.Smith ?" I asked innocently.
Fyne made an extraordinary simiesque grimace.