'Yes, Theo, it is.'
'And yours?'
'I am all vanity.'
Trist laughed derisively—a laugh, however, which was inaudible across the deck.
She turned and walked slowly forward to meet the Admiral, whose boat was dropping alongside.
'Don't laugh,' she said, almost angrily; 'it is true.'
'Then,' he said gravely, 'I will endeavour to satisfy you by asking you to sew on the very next button that comes off.'
For a moment she lost her gravity, and was a simple, sweetly coquettish girl.
'And I will refuse flatly,' she observed saucily.