"Good heavens, no!" said Merefleet, with an emphasis not particularly flattering to the sex.
"Well, then," she said, "p'r'aps it's the sea?"
"You may say so for the sake of argument," said Merefleet.
"I don't argue," she responded, with what he took for a touch of heat. "If people disagree with me I just shunt."
"Excellent policy," said Merefleet, interested in spite of himself. He fancied a faint shadow crossed her face. But she continued to speak with barely a pause. "If you like the sea you'd better join Bert and me. We go out every day. It's real fun."
"Exciting as well as dangerous," suggested Merefleet.
She nodded again. It was a habit of hers when roused to eagerness. "You've hit it. It's just that," she said. "Will you come?"
Merefleet hesitated. He was still inclined to be surly. But the new influence was not so easy to resist as he had imagined. The woman before him attracted him strongly, despite the fact that he now knew her loveliness to be but mortal; despite the constant jar of her shrill voice.
"Who is Bert?" he enquired at length, reluctantly aware that in temporising he signed away his freedom of action.
"Bert's my cousin," she answered. "He's English right through. You'd like Bert. He's in the smoke-room. Bert and I are great chums."