I'm sorry I've failed. But thank God I at least
prevented Ann from coming here herself."
She moved towards the door, but Brett was before her, and planted himself
with his back against it.
"Let me pass, Brett," she said quietly, though her heart beat a shade
faster in her breast.
"Again I'm sorry to refuse you," he returned mockingly.
"You can't--keep me here!"
"Can't I? If you interfere with other people's love affairs, you must be
prepared to take the consequences. In this ease 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.
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