Bran had climbed on his knee.
"Yes; I 've been thinking about that, my son."
Haidee said abruptly:
"Did n't you say we would take one of those tramp steamers that go from Marseilles, and touch at all sorts of ports?"
"That was the idea." Westenra held up a cigar to Val, and she nodded permission to smoke. "Why?"
"Well, as Rupert is going to Morocco next week I thought we might as well take the same ship." Haidee sounded rather breathless.
"Ah!" remarked Westenra thoughtfully and lay back in his chair, his face between the knees of Bran, who had climbed up into his favourite position.
Rupert murmured something about that being "an idea bien gentille" and hunted nervously for a cigarette.
"In that case," announced Val quietly, "we shall all be sailing from Marseilles at much the same time."
"All?" Every eye was immediately focused upon her.