Then suddenly some instinct, coming she knew not whence, and leading to consequences affecting their three lives, made her introduce the two men.
“Mr. Carr,” she said, “Mr. FitzHenry. You may be able to get each other partners. Besides, you have an interest in common.”
The two men bowed.
“Are you a sailor?” inquired Luke, almost pleasantly. With Willie Carr it was difficult to be stiff and formal.
“Not I; but I’m interested in shipping--not the navy, you know--merchant service. I’m something in the City, like the young man on the omnibus, eh?”
“I’m in the merchant service,” answered Luke.
“Ah! What ship?”
“The Croonah.”
“Croonah,” repeated Carr, hastily scribbling his name on Agatha’s programme. “Fine ship; I know her well by name. Know ’em all on paper, you know. I’m an insurance man--what they call a doctor--Lloyd’s and all that; missing ships, overdue steamers, hedging and dodging, and the inner walks of marine insurance--that’s yours truly. Croonah’s a big value, I know.”
He looked up keenly over Agatha’s engagement card. The look was not quite in keeping with his bluff and open manners. Moreover, a man who is, so to speak, not in keeping with himself is one who requires watching.