"I think you had better take up your quarters here for a time," he added. She flinched at the prospect.
"But why? It is so public! Everyone off the boat seems to be here, and I shall have to keep on telling lies just because I know them. It seems to me I can't open my mouth without telling a lie, and," she finished desperately, "it makes me sick."
He looked at her coldly. His fine brown eyes could be hard as flint.
"I thought it was a promise--some sort of a compact--to do what was best--_for her_?" he remarked. A little cold wave of the sea seemed to creep over her soul, and she could see her hands trembling as she dealt with the fruit on her plate.
"Very well," she acquiesced tonelessly, at last; "if you think it best. How long am I to stay?"
"Until next week's mail-boat sails," he said slowly. "I have been down to see if I could get you a berth on this week's, but she is full up."
"You want me to return to England?" There was desperate resistance in her voice now. She had not realized until that moment how much she wished to stay.
"It is not what _I_ want: it is for her," he insisted ruthlessly. "You must go to her father and explain everything. Letters are no good."
She was silent, but her eyes were wretched. She wanted to stay in Africa.
"After all, it is your share of the payment for folly," he pursued relentlessly. That was too much for her temper.
His face did not change, but his voice became very gentle.
She would have given much to recall her fierce retort then, for after all, it was true that she was not the only one hit. This man too was suffering under his mask. He had loved Diana, and that his love was the direct cause of the tragedy must make his wretchedness the more acute. With an impulse of pity and understanding she put out her hand to him across the table, but instead of taking it he passed her a little dish of salted almonds. Mortified, she looked up in time to see Sarle and his friends going by, and was left wondering how much they had witnessed, and whether Bellew had meant to snub or spare her. The whole thing was a miserable mix-up, and it almost seemed to her as if Diana had as usual got the best of it, for at any rate she was out of the deceit and discomfort.