She did not answer. She thought he was the strangest man she had ever met. 

"We ought to be turning back," he said presently, "It's nearly nine o'clock, and we're some way from the hotel." 

She walked reluctantly beside him. 

Suddenly she asked a question. 

"If you are Chris' best friend, why weren't you his best man at—at our wedding?" 

She looked up at him as she spoke, and saw the quick frown that crossed his face. 

"Am I to answer that question?" he asked. 

"Of course. I should like to know." 

"Very well, then, as you insist—Chris asked me to be best man, or whatever you call it, and I refused." 

"Why?" She was really interested now. 

"Why? Well, because—before I saw you—I disliked the idea of Chris being married. Marriage spoils most friendships between men." 

Marie looked out over the sea with wistful eyes. 

"I don't think marriage will spoil Chris' friendships," she said, with faint bitterness. 

"No," he agreed, "I am afraid it will not." 

There was a queer, hard note of disapproval in his voice, and Marie looked at him in bewilderment. 

"I don't think I understand you," she said angrily. "I don't think I understand a bit what you mean." 

34 "Perhaps I don't understand myself." he answered. "Let's leave it at that, shall we, and forget all the nonsense I've been talking?" 

34

They went up to the hotel silently. There were several people about now and a smartly-dressed woman with red hair, to whom Feathers bowed formally, stared at Marie rather insolently as they passed. 

"Is that one of Chris' friends?" Marie asked with an effort when 

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