Tyrrell! It was awkward, extremely awkward and annoying, if, as he began to fear, her confidences were of a tender character.
"I—I am not exactly angry," he said; "but I do think you might be more careful whom you speak to. What did you tell her?"
"All!" she said, with the same little quiver in her underlip he had noticed before.
"That is no answer," said Peter (it certainly was none for him). "Tell me what you said?"
"I—I told her about you, and about me … and—and about him!"
"Oh!" said Peter, "about me, and you, and him? Well, and—and how did she take it?"
"She didn't say very much; she turned very pale. It was rather rough at the time, and I don't think she can be a very good sailor; for before I had even finished she got up and went below, and I haven't seen her since."
"But you told her about 'him'?" he persisted; "and when you say 'him,' I presume you refer to?"
Here he paused expectantly.
"Of course!" she answered, with a touch of impatience. "Whom else should I be likely to refer to?"
