"Perhaps that was what Carmen was waiting for!"
Carson got up to get another cigar and the subject dropped. When he came back Bramham reverted to his own troubles.
"Colonial girls don't interest me at any time," he proclaimed aggrievedly; "especially the adventuress brand. I didn't think that even I was such an idiot as to get tangled up with one."
Carson stared straight before him with a smile at the sea.
"This girl is Brookfield's typewriter—confound him!"
Carson's satirical eyebrows moved, but he said nothing.
Bramham continued:
"A tall girl, with a fine figure and a high colour—but what has that got to do with me?"
"What, indeed?" an ironical echo from the canvas chair.
This irritated Bramham.