"How can I get it to you?"
"Put on your morning gown and come to my door."
I did so, with the cake of soap in my hand and met my companion, somewhat similarly arrayed, holding out a bare arm. She did look to my eyes at that moment wonderfully pretty.
"Come, Marjorie," I said, dropping into the affectionate form, "you might let me in for a minute or two. You don't know how becoming that attire is."
"I know all about it. I've been looking in the glass. Hurry up and finish dressing. I will meet you on the veranda."
Wesson came along at that moment with Eggert and smiled. I resented that smile. It meant a hundred things that he had no right to surmise; besides, they weren't true.
"It is perfectly lovely here," he commented, to Eggert as much as to me. "My friend Camwell has not misrepresented it in the least."
"Camran," corrected Eggert, for which I could have punched his head. Were they going to argue that point over between them?
"Camran, I should have said," corrected Wesson. "Could I make arrangements to come out here and board while I remain on the island?"
"Damn!" I exclaimed, under my breath, but Marjorie heard me through the partition.