Cara glanced at him swiftly. His mouth wore a grave little smile, as though
the words bore for him a second and deeper meaning than the obvious one of
their reply to Robin's question.
CHAPTER XX
REFUSAL
The process of making a tour of the _Sphinx_ had been a lengthy one. The
yacht was beautifully appointed, and there had been much to examine and
admire. Brett, who loved every inch of her, from the marvellous little gold
figure of a sphinx, which he had had specially designed and carved as a
mascot, down to the polished knobs and buttons in the engine-room, had
expatiated with considerable length and fervour upon her various beauties
and advantages, and by the time he and Ann emerged on to the deck once more
it was to find it deserted by the rest of the party.
Brett moved a couple of deck-chairs into a sheltered corner.
"You must be tired," he said remorsefully. "I've kept you standing about an
unconscionable time while I yarned on about my old tub. If you'll sit down
here, I'll go and fetch you a wrap."
Ann subsided into one of the chairs not unthankfully.
"But I don't want a wrap," she protested.
"You will, presently. You must remember it's September, even though it is a
warm evening.
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