"That's right!" she said, and held up hers. Mabel gulped down something in her throat.
"Well," said Benton, throwing off the mood, "we might as well have dinner." He took up the menu and looked it over.
They all ordered languidly. The talk began in a desultory fashion, and the group became almost normal—all except Dougal, who stared steadily across the room to where, under a drawing was a scroll bearing the words from Salome: "Something terrible is going to happen,"—and Mabel, who did not speak and watched her plate. The restaurant, meanwhile, had begun to fill up. Dishes rattled, voices chattered, new arrivals appeared every few minutes.
Dougal looked up from his plate listlessly. "I saw Granthope and his wife on the Oakland boat yesterday," he said. "I guess he's going East; they had a lot of luggage."
"Did you speak to him?" Benton asked.
"No. I started to, then decided not to break up a honeymoon party. But I heard her say something queer. I've been wondering about it." He stopped, as if he had forgotten all about them there at the table. Then he continued in a slow labored voice: "It was the queer way she said it—the way she looked, somehow."
"What was it?" Starr asked.
"We were just opposite Goat Island." He paused and took a breath. "She said—"
They all waited, watching him. He tried it again. "She said—'Doesn't the water look cold!'—then she kind of shivered and said—'Let's come inside'—we were just opposite Goat Island."
Maxim repeated the words: "'The water looks cold'—Oh, God!" he exclaimed softly.