“Yes, I heard,” he said carelessly.
“And you said, ‘is that all?’ And it was a relief to you. Did you expect to hear something worse than that—that one of your seamen had lost his life?”
“Gardy,” he said softly, “who do you think you are talking to?
“I don’t know,” I said hotly. “I thought I knew you, Chanler. I find I am mistaken.”
“By Jove, Gardy!” he repeated. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Oh, drop that! That’s a pose, Chanler, and this is no time for posing. A man has lost his life from your yacht, and you are relieved because that is all. What sort of a condition of affairs is this?”
“I didn’t think you had it in you, Gardy,” he repeated. “No, I didn’t think you’d dare to talk to me this way face to face.”
“Dare!” I cried, and he sat up and looked at me strangely.
“By Jove! Gardy, you’re growing. The sea air is doing wonders for you. As for this chap—this hand—what’s his name, Wilson——”
“Larson, sir.”