“I am sure you’d much better laugh than cry,” said he.

“I will tell you about it, Allan,” the girl went on.  “I know I shall have to tell somebody, or I shall simply explode.  You will have to advise me about it, for I was never more bewildered in my life.”

“Go ahead,” said he.  “Begin at the beginning.”

“I told you how I met Waterman at his art gallery,” said Lucy.  “Mr. David Alden took me, and the old man was so polite, and so dignified—­why, I never had the slightest idea!  And then he wrote me a little note—­in his own hand, mind you—­inviting me to be one of a party for the first trip of the Brunnhilde.  Of course, I thought it was all right.  I told you I was going, you know, and you didn’t have any objections either.

“I went down there, and the launch met me and took me on board, and a steward took me down into that room and left me, and a second later the old man himself came in.  And he shut the door behind him and locked it!

“How do you do, Mrs. Taylor?’ he said, and before I had a chance even to open my mouth and reply, he came to me and calmly put his arms around me.

“You can fancy my feelings.  I was simply paralysed!

“Mr. Waterman?’ I gasped.

“I didn’t hear what he said; I was almost dazed with anger and fright.  I remember I cried several times, ‘Let me go!’ but he paid not the slightest attention to me.  He just held me tight in his arms.

“Finally I got myself together, a little.  I didn’t want to bite and scratch like a kitchen-wench.  I tried to speak calmly.

“‘Mr. Waterman,’ I said, ‘I want you to release me.’

“‘I love you,’ he said.

“‘But I don’t love you,’ I protested.  I remember thinking even then how absurd it sounded.  I can’t think of anything that wouldn’t have sounded absurd in such a situation.

“‘You will learn to love me,’ he said.  ‘Many women have.’

“‘I am not that sort of a woman,’ I said.  ’I tell you, you have made a mistake.  Let me go.’

“‘I want you,’ he said.  ’And when I want a thing, I get it.  I never take any refusal—­understand that.  You don’t realise the situation.  It will be no disgrace to you.  Women think it an honour to have me love them.  Think what I can do for you.  You can have anything you want.  You can go anywhere you wish.  I will never stint you.’

“I remember his going on like that for some time.  And fancy, there I was!  I might as well have been in the grip of a bear.  You would not think it, you know, but he is terribly strong.  I could not move.  I could hardly think.  I was suffocated, and all the time I could feel his breath on my face, and he was glaring into my eyes like some terrible wild beast.

“‘Mr. Waterman,’ I protested, ’I am not used to being treated in this way.’

“‘I know, I know,’ he said.  ’If you were, I should not want you.  But I am different from other men.  Think of it—­think of all that I have on my hands.  I have no time to make love to women.  But I love you.  I loved you the minute I saw you.  Is not that enough?  What more can you ask?’