“That is so,” said von Moll.
“In Germany,” said Gorman, “you put that sort of young person into her place at once, I suppose.”
“In Germany,” said von Moll, “she would not exist.”
He spoke with ponderous gravity. Gorman was pleased to see that he was becoming more ponderous as he drank glass after glass of brandy.
“That cave incident, for instance,” said Gorman. “I call it cheek her trying to get into the cave when you had sentries posted outside to stop her. By the way, what had you in the cave that you didn’t want her to see? A girl?”
Von Moll leered in a most disgusting manner. Gorman poured him out another glass of brandy.
“You naval men,” he said, “you’re always the same. No girl can resist you. But, I say, you’d really better keep it dark about that man of yours getting his teeth knocked out. If there were any kind of inquiry and it came out about your being in the cave with one of the island girls——”
“There was no girl in the cave,” said von Moll.
“Come now! I won’t give you away. Between ourselves. We are both men of the world.”
“I have said. There was no girl.”