Something like admiration showed in the purser’s eyes.
“My word! Some notion, that! If the woman is there and hasn’t smelt a rat, she’ll give herself away when she hears that. But why don’t you read it yourself?”
“If she makes a move to leave I want to be out before her. If she leaves, it will mean that her husband is not present, and I want to get her before she can warn him. Carter’ll be on the same job.”
“Well, I’ll read it if you like, but frankly I’d rather you had some one else to do it.”
“What about Captain Davis?”
Jennings glanced round and sank his voice.
“If you take my advice, you’ll leave the old man out of it altogether. He just mightn’t approve. He treats the passengers as his guests, and bluffing them like that mightn’t appeal to him.”
“But I’m not bluffing them,” French retorted with a twinkle in his eye. He drew a pound note from his pocket and passed it over. “That’s for the chocolates, and whoever puts in the best answer gets it. It’s all perfectly straight and above board. Whether we get the woman over it or not no one need ever know.”
The purser smiled, but shook his head doubtfully.
“Well, it’s your funeral. Anyway, I’ve said I’ll go through with it, and I will.”