“You.”
“Well, you kin go on wantin’. I’m sick!”
“What on earth’s the matter with you?”
Pause—then the voice came again mixed with sounds as of plates being put away.
“I’m sick of the hull of this crowd—washing up and cooking and you two playin’ about!”
“Come up on deck.”
“Sha’n’t! I’m going to scatter—soon’s I’ve finished clearing away. Life of a dog!” indistinct grumbles tailing away into silence.
He lit a pipe and waited.
Presently the companionway creaked and a head appeared at the cabin hatch. He said nothing while the whole body emerged, stood erect on the deck, and shaded its eyes toward the Juan. Then, still speechless, it leaned on the rail, looking toward the reef and apparently lost in thought.
The sleeves of the guernsey were rolled up to mid-arm, ill temper seemed to have vanished and to have been replaced by sudden laziness, and as she lolled, kicking up a bare heel, she whistled.