“Buck up,” he shouted, “it is—I will eat my hat—it is Corinne! She comes to me!”
“Nonsense,” said Gorman. “That’s Miss Donovan’s boat. She’s coming home for dinner. Sit down and don’t get excited.”
“I am sorry,” said the King, “but I cannot. It is impossible for me to keep on my hair when Corinne is coming.”
“Corinne isn’t coming,” said Gorman. “How could she?”
“I see her. I see her. The dickens, and Great Jupiter, my eyes see her.”
“You can’t tell one woman from another at that distance. What you see is either Miss Donovan or Kalliope.”
The boat drew rapidly nearer. Gorman stared at her.
“There are three women,” he said. “I wonder who the other is.”
“Corinne. Corinne,” said the King.