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line run out, reeling in again. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Alix; yet somehow she found herself scrambling into the dinghy, snatc hi ng up the net, standing beside Mm, breath held, eyes s hini ng with excitement, as slowly, inexorably, he brought the big fish nearer and nearer to the net she was now holding out.
    When it was a couple of yards away the fish executed a prodigious leap, trying to t hr ow off the hook. But it failed. Three glorious minutes later, it lay gasping in the bottom of the boat, and Richard was saying:
    “Done like a pro, Alix, bless you. Enjoyed that?”
    She gasped too—rather like the fish, she thought. “Oh yes, I did. I never imagined fis hi ng could be so exciting.”
    He had picked it up and was weighing it on a small spring scale. He grinned at her delightedly.
    “It’s an eleven-pounder. Gosh, Alix, you’re lucky. An eleven-pounder for your first fish!”
    “My fish?”
    He paid no attention to that. He had picked up a smaller rod and was baiting the hooks.
    “Come on now, you must try a cast,” he urged. “We’ll make a fisherwoman out of you yet.”
    But Alix had come to her senses. What am I doing here? she asked herself with shocked amazement. Fishing—in a Herrold boat? Fraternising with the enemy. In full view of the house too. What will Aunt Drusilla think? She’s probably watching me through her binoculars now, absolutely horrified ...
    “Oh no, Richard, th ank you very much, but I must go back,” she st amm ered hastily. “I’ll be late for breakfast.”
    “Then will you come for a lesson tomorrow morning?”
    “I d—don’t think ...”
    Nelson saved the situation for her by trying to scramble into the boat. He was bored with swimming round it; besides, something told him his morning bowl of porridge was waiting for him on the kitchen step.
    “Stop it, Nelson, I’m coming,” Alix cried, snatching at the pretext he offered. “Sorry, Richard, got to go. Thanks so much ...”
    Splash! She was in the water and swimming hard for the shore.
    As she grounded in the shallows a tall figure, stripped down to sw immin g trunks, jumped to its feet beside her. Richard. His eyes, resting on her face, had a warmth in them she couldn’t fail to notice. He was thinking, in point of fact, how adorable she looked in her wet swimsuit, with her hair in a damp curly topknot, colour rising in her cheeks, and an attempt at a severe frown creasing her smooth brow ...
    “What ?” she began. He didn’t allow her to finish the question.
    “You didn’t say,” he reminded her gently, “whether you’d come and fish tomorrow, or not.”
    The sea-water glistened on his well-muscled, sun - browned body. He looked very big and confident and — determined. Alix said:
    “You know I can’t, Richard.”
    He lifted the humorous eyebrow.
    “Not allowed to play with that Bad Man’s child?” She nodded sedately, though a glint showed between her lashes.
    “I may say I shall be fishing off Laguna Point just as often as the tide is right. So what happens? Do you swim by, cutting me dead?”
    “If I ask you—as a favour—to go and do your fishing somewhere else...?”
    There was no mistaking, this time, the diablerie in his amused grin.
    “Sorry, no dice. The lagoon is free for all.”
    “Then I must find somewhere else to swim.”
    “If you did,” said Richard thoughtfully, “I mean if I hadn’t seen you for two or three days, I might get anxious. I might feel in duty bound to call at ‘Laguna’ and enquire after your health. Besides, I invited you to dine. I’d have to try and find out which date would suit you.”
    Alix tried, not very successfully, to look severe. “You’re very persistent, aren’t you?” she accused. His grey eyes gave her a long level look, entirely serious now. No humorous lift of the brow.
    “When I happen to want something a lot — very,” he agreed quietly.
    She had no answer to that.
    “Well, I must fly ...” she began.
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