"I was thinking only," he rejoined, "that at your age it's always as if we'd just left one world and were seeking another."
Her eyes—and lashes—were sceptical. "Weren't you going to say it would seem more so if we should blow up?"
"No," he laughed, "nothing like it."
She began absently to scrutinize his entire dress. It was like the old man's though without the jewelry and ruffles. "Were you ever in an explosion?" she asked. The words came of themselves. She was backsliding from her table decorum.
"No," he replied, "I was never in an explosion."
"Ah, my child!" broke in the mother, "questions again? And even to Captain Courteney?"
Ramsey laughed, gave the deck a wilful scuff, and demanded of the captain: "Were you ever on a burning boat?"
Madame Hayle flinched, gasped, and drew her from him as he replied: "Yes—once—I was."
The mother started again. "There!" she cried; "so! you 'ave it! Now, go"—she laughingly pushed the querist—"go, talk with Hugh—allong with yo' brotheh."
The girl, as she backed away, turned to the grandfather: "Was Hugh on the boat—when it burned?"