Aynsley saw no strong reason for refusing a reply, particularly as he knew that if he succeeded in putting off his father now, the information would be demanded later.
“She was called Cetacea.”
Ruth unobtrusively studied the group. Miss Dexter was frankly uninterested; and Aynsley looked as if he did not know whether he had done right or not. Osborne’s face was firmly set and Clay had an ominously intent and resolute expression. Ruth suspected that she had done a dangerous thing in mentioning the matter, and she regretted her incautiousness; though she did not see where the danger lay. For all that, she felt impelled to learn what she could.
“Was it the island where you were wrecked?” she asked Clay.
He looked at her rather hard, and then laughed.
“I think so, but the experience was unpleasant, and I don’t feel tempted to recall the thing.”
Afterward he talked amusingly about something else, and half an hour had passed when he got up.
“I expect it’s cooler on the beach,” he said. “Will any of you come along?”
They sat still, except Osborne, who rose and followed him, and when they reached a spot where the trees hid them from the house Clay stopped.
“I suppose what you heard was a bit of a shock,” he remarked.