Lady Osmund never went there, but Azalea used to hear laughter and raised voices and thought as she passed the open door that it sounded much the gayest part of the ship.
She went to the rail to lean over it and watch the phosphorescence in the water moving away from the ship’s side. It was like a reflection of light from the stars above her head and she looked up, thinking that the sky seemed big and boundless, stretching away into infinity, and having a mystery that she had never noticed when she was in England.
She heard a footstep behind her and knew instinctively without turning her head who was there.
“You are very elusive, Miss Osmund,” a voice said, and she thought there was a slightly mocking note in it.
Slowly, because she was shy, she turned to look at him. She could see his
