But Mr. Kuvetli interrupted him. “Ah! See! There is Greece!”
They looked. There, sure enough, was Greece. It looked like a low bank of cloud on the horizon beyond the end of the golden line of Makronisi, a line that was contracting slowly as the ship ploughed on its way through the Zea channel.
“Beautiful day!” enthused Mr. Kuvetli. “Magnificent!” He drew a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “I anticipate very much to see Athens. We get to Piræus at two o’clock.”
“Are you and Madame going ashore?” said Graham to Mathis.
“No, I think not. It is too short a time.” He turned his coat collar up and shivered. “I agree that it is a beautiful day, but it is cold.”
“If you did not stand talking so much,” said his wife, “you would keep warm. And you have no scarf.”
“Very well, very well!” he said irritably. “We will go below. Excuse us, please.”
“I think that I, too, will go,” said Mr. Kuvetli. “Are you coming down, Mr. Graham?”
“I’ll stay a little.” He would have enough of Mr. Kuvetli later.
“Then at two o’clock.”