“He came to see us when you were here last, didn’t he?” she said to Davies. “He often comes. He goes with father to Memmert sometimes. You know about Memmert? They are diving for money out of an old wreck.”
“Yes, we had heard about it.”
“Of course you have. Father is a director of the company, and Commander von Brüning takes great interest in it; they took me down in a diving-bell once.”
I murmured, “Indeed!” and Davies sawed laboriously at the bread. She must have misconstrued our sheepish silence, for she stopped and drew herself up with just a touch of momentary hauteur, utterly lost on Davies. I could have laughed aloud at this transient little comedy of errors.
“Did you see any gold?” said Davies at last, with husky solemnity. Something had to be said or we should defeat our own end; but I let him say it. He had not my faith in Memmert.
“No, only mud and timber—oh, I forgot——”
“You mustn’t betray the company’s secrets,” I said, laughing; “Commander von Brüning wouldn’t tell us a word about the gold.” (“There’s self-denial!” I said to myself.)
“Oh, I don’t think it matters much,” she answered, laughing too. “You are only visitors.”
“That’s all,” I remarked, demurely. “Just passing travellers.”
“You will stop at Norderney?” she said, with naïve anxiety. “Herr Davies said——”