The engines throbbed the big ship into vibrant speed. A breeze of tropical air ruffled the flower petals around their necks. Mason watched the fringe of lights along the dark shoreline, glanced down at the churned white of water where it streamed along the side of the boat.
From the lower deck, leis sped outward, to hang poised for a minute in circular color against the black of the water, then collapse and drop rapidly astern, as passengers sought to comply with the age-old Hawaiian custom.
Mason said, with the tolerance of one who has long since learned to accept human nature as an established fact, “Those are the newcomers, the malihinis. Those leis drift right back into the harbor. Passengers should wait until they’re opposite Diamond Head.”
Elbows on the rail, they looked down on the heads and shoulders of people leaning over the rails on the lower decks.
“There’s the couple we saw last night in the Chinese restaurant,” Mason remarked.
Della Street followed the direction of his gaze. “I’m to have her for a roommate,” she said. “She was in the cabin when my baggage came aboard.”
“Who is she, Della?”
“Her name’s Belle Newberry. Her father and mother are in three twenty-one.”
“Who’s her boyfriend?” Mason asked.
“Roy Amboy Hungerford,” Della Street said, “and he’s not her boyfriend.”