“Oh, what fun!” he cried.  “What am I sitting on?  Is this your room?  How jolly!” “There—­sit there,” she commanded.  Cowper slid once more.

“How jolly to meet again,” said Richard.  “It seems an age. Cowper’s Letters? . . .  Bach? . . . Wuthering Heights? . . .  Is this where you meditate on the world, and then come out and pose poor politicians with questions?  In the intervals of sea-sickness I’ve thought a lot of our talk.  I assure you, you made me think.”

“I made you think!  But why?”

“What solitary icebergs we are, Miss Vinrace!  How little we can communicate!  There are lots of things I should like to tell you about—­to hear your opinion of.  Have you ever read Burke?”

“Burke?” she repeated.  “Who was Burke?”

“No?  Well, then I shall make a point of sending you a copy. The Speech on the French Revolution—­The American Rebellion?  Which shall it be, I wonder?” He noted something in his pocket-book.  “And then you must write and tell me what you think of it.  This reticence—­this isolation—­that’s what’s the matter with modern life!  Now, tell me about yourself.  What are your interests and occupations?  I should imagine that you were a person with very strong interests.  Of course you are!  Good God!  When I think of the age we live in, with its opportunities and possibilities, the mass of things to be done and enjoyed—­why haven’t we ten lives instead of one?  But about yourself?”

“You see, I’m a woman,” said Rachel.

“I know—­I know,” said Richard, throwing his head back, and drawing his fingers across his eyes.

“How strange to be a woman!  A young and beautiful woman,” he continued sententiously, “has the whole world at her feet.  That’s true, Miss Vinrace.  You have an inestimable power—­for good or for evil.  What couldn’t you do—­” he broke off.

“What?” asked Rachel.

“You have beauty,” he said.  The ship lurched.  Rachel fell slightly forward.  Richard took her in his arms and kissed her.  Holding her tight, he kissed her passionately, so that she felt the hardness of his body and the roughness of his cheek printed upon hers.  She fell back in her chair, with tremendous beats of the heart, each of which sent black waves across her eyes.  He clasped his forehead in his hands.

“You tempt me,” he said.  The tone of his voice was terrifying.  He seemed choked in fright.  They were both trembling.  Rachel stood up and went.  Her head was cold, her knees shaking, and the physical pain of the emotion was so great that she could only keep herself moving above the great leaps of her heart.  She leant upon the rail of the ship, and gradually ceased to feel, for a chill of body and mind crept over her.  Far out between the waves little black and white sea-birds were riding.  Rising and falling with smooth and graceful movements in the hollows of the waves they seemed singularly detached and unconcerned.