looked older now under the trying white light of the electrics. Her aura of belated youth had in some way fallen away from her. "Madre de Dios! Do you know who that man is?"
"He's an agent named Duffy," explained McKinnon.
"Duffy!"
"Yes—he is acting for the information bureau of the Consolidated Fruit Concern."
He was about to say more, but on second thoughts he kept silent.
"Duffy!" once more cried the woman in derision, "Duffy!"
Then she drew herself up and gazed at her companion with what seemed a look of mingled wonder and contempt wrinkling her low, white brow.
"And you two are working together?" she murmured.
"Yes, in a way."
"But how?" she demanded. "How are you acting with him?"
Her alarm did not seem to disconcert him.
"It's not exactly a partnership. He's simply shadowing a man on this boat. I've promised to help him out when the time comes."
"How help him out?"
"Only in a trivial way."
"But how?"
