“It’ll be better for you not to land,” he said.
“I know all about that,” said Priscilla. “You needn’t bother to invent anything fresh.”
“You can’t land here,” said Joseph Antony. “Aren’t there islands enough in the bay? Jimmy, will you push that boat off from the shore and take the lady and gentleman that’s in her away out of this.”
The carving fork descended an inch towards Jimmy’s leg. His father menaced him with a threatening scowl. Jimmy sat quite still. Like the leader of the House of Lords during the last stage of a recent political crisis, he had ceased to be a free agent.
“I don’t want to land on your beastly island,” said Priscilla. “If there wasn’t as much as a half-tide rock in the whole bay that I could put my foot on I wouldn’t land here, and you can tell your wife from me that if that baby of hers was to die for the want of a bit of flannel, I won’t steal another scrap from Aunt Juliet’s box to give it to her.”
“Sure you know well enough, Miss,” said Joseph Antony, “that there’s ne’er a one would be more welcome to the island than yourself. But the way things is at present——”
“I’ve a pretty good guess at the way things are,” said Priscilla, “and the minute I get back tonight I’m going to tell Sergeant Rafferty.”
Joseph Antony smiled uneasily.
“You wouldn’t do the like of that,” he said.
“I will,” said Priscilla, “unless you allow me to land these two at once.”