Dorothy nodded sagely. “Which only goes to show that diamonds don’t count for much when one is tired and wet and hungry, not to mention being marooned on a desert island!”
“Ain’t it the truth! Another cup of coffee, please. I’ll fetch them when we’ve finished eating.”
“After we’ve washed up?”
“O.K. with me.”
Bill drank his third cup of coffee and leaned back with a sigh of content.
“Well, the old appetite’s satisfied at last,” he admitted comfortably. “And I don’t mind telling you that was the best meal I ever ate.”
“Thank you, kind sir. Though I think it is your appetite rather than the cook you should thank.”
Bill shook his head. “When it comes to cooking, you’re a real, bona fide, died-in-the-wool, A-1 Ace! How about it—shall we wash the dishes now?”
“I can’t eat any more, and if I don’t get busy soon, I’ll go to sleep again.”
“Pass the dishes and things overside to me. I’ll sluice ’em off in the water. We should worry. This will be our last meal on this boat. I’ll bet a rubber nickel those smuggler-guys wouldn’t have done this much if they’d got the Mary Jane.”