“Yes, she is a fine ship,” answered Luke, with a momentary thought of the Terrific.
“Tell me,” went on Carr, confidentially plucking Luke’s sleeve, “when she is going to the bottom, and I’ll do a line for you--make your fortune for you. You’d not be the first man who has come to me, with his hair hardly dry, for a cheque.”
Luke laughed and went away in answer to Mrs. Harrington’s beckoning finger.
Fitz was coming towards Agatha and her companion.
“Holloa!” exclaimed Carr, “I’m blowed if here is not a second edition of the same man.”
“His brother,” explained Agatha, who saw Fitz coming, although she was apparently looking the other way.
“Royal Navy,” muttered Carr.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m off. Can’t get on with Royal Navy men, somehow.”
With a jovial nod and something remarkably near a wink, Willie Carr left her, shouldering his way through the crowd with that good-natured boisterousness of manner which is accepted by the world for honesty.