"Not for that purpose."
"To Larchmont!"
Had she been taller, Aunt Caroline at that moment would have been imperious. She gestured with a sweep of the arm worthy of a queen. The gesture, it happened, was not in the direction of Larchmont at all, but she did not know that.
Bill shook his head grimly.
"William Marshall, I propose to be obeyed."
Ordinarily, when Aunt Caroline reached that point, Bill yielded the field to her. But this was no ordinary occasion. She proposed to marry her social secretary to Pete Stearns—his secretary! Where was ever such an outrageous idea conceived? Again he shook his head. He could find no words to voice his scornful defiance.
Suddenly Aunt Caroline wilted into a deck chair.
"I wish to go to my stateroom," she said, in a weak voice. "I feel faint. Send for my maid."
Bill departed on a run. The maid brought smelling salts, and after a minute of sniffing Aunt Caroline arose and walked slowly toward the saloon entrance, through which she disappeared. She ignored Bill's offer of an arm.
The boss of the yacht Sunshine, having satisfied his lust for defiance, ran forward and mounted the bridge two steps at a time.