The Count laughed pleasantly.
“My dear sir, it is not a present.”
The Captain stuffed his hands very deeply into his pockets.
“Then it’s worse--it’s charity. And she has no need of that. Thank ye all the same,” he replied.
He stared straight in front of him with a vague and rather painful suggestion of incapability that sometimes came over him. He was wondering whether he was doing right in this matter.
“If,” he added, half to himself, as a sort of afterthought on the crying question of ways and means--“if it comes to that, I can go to sea again. There’s plenty would be ready to give me a ship.”
The Count was still smiling.
“There is no question,” he said, “of charity. What has Miss Challoner done that I should offer her that? I am in ignorance as to her affairs. I do not know the extent of her income.”
“As far as we can make out,” said Eve gently, “there is nothing. But I can work. I thought that my knowledge of Spanish might enable me to make a living.”
“No,” said Captain Bontnor, “I’m d--- I mean I should not like you to go governessing, my dear.”