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felt no elation. To her the whole contest had been a private battle with Ashley Ward—and she still smarted from his first derogatory remarks about her job.
    As the lights came on Fay ran towards Lorna. “You did marvellously, but I do think he —” with a nod of her head towards Ashley where he stood talking to Charles Dickens, “could have made your questions a little easier. Everyone was saying how unfair he was. I mean, he helped some of the others, so why not you?”
    Lorna shrugged. “I suppose it’s my own fault for showing my dislike of him. Anyway, it was all in fun, so who’s worrying?” She tried to assume a casualness she was far from feeling. “I did better than I expected.”
    “You should have won,” said Fay loyally. “I’ve a good mind to tell that man exactly what I think of him.”
    “Don’t you dare!” retorted Lorna. “He won’t thank you for interfering. This is a private war between the two of us—and I know which side’s going to win.”
    “Atta-girl! ” smiled Fay. “Let’s go and have a swim before dinner. It’s so hot in here I can hardly breathe.”
    The two girls joined the throng leaving the hall, Lorna receiving many congratulations, and before long they were in the pool. After a few lengths Lorna turned on her back, floating lazily on the surface of the water. At one time during the quiz she had begun to wonder whether it was her imagination that Ashley was asking her harder questions than anyone else. But now that Fay had mentioned it, and judging by the sympathetic whispers from the audience as they left, so too had a number of other people, she could only assume it was correct. He had certainly delivered each question with, to her, a malicious satisfaction, yet why should he go to such lengths to attempt to embarrass her? He had been ready enough with his assurance that her impression of him as a playboy was wrong, so why set out now to create a further bad concept of himself? It didn’t make sense.
    Lorna dressed carefully for dinner, preparing for another battle of words with her newly acquired enemy. Perhaps, she thought hopefully as she arrived at her table to find it empty, he had decided to revert to his former seat after this morning’s little skirmish? It was a welcoming thought, but one destined to a quick death as he came striding towards her a few minutes later.
    Several heads turned in their direction and Lorna could imagine the tongues that would be wagging. Passengers who had been present that afternoon, telling their fellow passengers about the general knowledge quiz.
    To her amazement Ashley smiled as he took his seat. “Congratulations, you did very well.”
    “With no thanks to you,” she said icily, still rankled by his earlier attitude.
    His smile faded. “What do you mean?”
    “Nothing really,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Oh, but it does. I’m curious now, and once my curiosity’s roused I stop at nothing.”
    Lorna could see he meant every word. “Very well,” she said slowly. “Can you tell me why it is you seemed to delight in asking me questions to which you were sure I wouldn’t know the answers?”
    “Really!” He raised dark brows expressively. “Is that what you think? Now how did you arrive at that conclusion?”
    “It’s not what I think, it’s what I know.” Lorna spoke quickly, his patronising manner stimulating her temper. “Are you denying that you didn’t pick my questions out specially?”
    “What do you take me for? I merely read them as they came.” His smile returned. “I really don’t see why you’re complaining. I thought you were jolly clever. You were up against some pretty stiff odds. Brains and beauty—some combination!”
    It was Lorna’s turn to raise her eyebrows. What had happened to the great man that he should unbend sufficiently to praise her? And was it really true that he had taken the questions in strict order? After all, she wasn’t the only one to notice how