Page:Arthur Stringer - Gun Runner.djvu/100

 with a satiric motion towards the operator's closet-door.

McKinnon seemingly took her query in good faith, for he threw open the door and peered inside. His troubled look returned to him.

"There would scarcely be room," he explained. "It's so crowded and shallow, you see."

"It would be an adventure," she maintained, making due allowance for his lack of humour. He could see that she was wringing some inapposite amusement out of the situation. It threw him on his guard for a moment, but only for a moment. The open candour of her glance disarmed his abashed suspicion.

He agreed with her that it would indeed be an adventure. He even laughed at the thought of it, infected a little by her spirit of quiet audacity. Yet, in spite of himself, as he let his eyes rest on hers, there remained with him the stubborn yet vague impression that her presence there was the preamble for some deeper and undivulged purpose. The seconds lengthened themselves into a minute, and still neither spoke. They were still gazing at each other when the sound of a quick step on the deck without fell on their ears.

The woman stood up with a little gasp. The look on her face changed into one of appeal.