Better to look at the dazzling blue sea than at Joey’s pale face.
“Another cup of tea, Joey?”
“Yes, thank you, gran.”
They did not mention the money again. Joey knew that her grandmother would not have asked for it, if it had not been urgently needed; and Mrs. Vincey knew that if it were in any way possible, Joey would get it for her at any cost.
The sun went down and a fresh breeze sprang up. The two women ate their supper of bread and cheese and more tea, in the kitchen, while Captain Vincey slept upstairs in his room. The moon came up and made a silver path on the dark sea, for prisoners to look at, if they chose.
“Good night, gran dear!”
“Good night, Joey. You’re a good girl, Joey. Sleep well!”
But Joey did not sleep very well. She sat up in bed, looking out at the garden, where the moon was shining. A breeze blew in her face, fragrant with jasmine.
“If only the new manager will be nice!” she thought. “Oh, please let him be nice!”
The captain was much better in the morning. He bathed and shaved, put on a clean white suit, and came down to breakfast in a witty and cheerful humor.