"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, "have that word and I met? I don't seem to recognize it."
"Good-morning, Mr. Varney." Mary offered him her hand; but, greeting her, he had turned to pull a chair out of her way, and so missed seeing it.
"It is a great pleasure to welcome you aboard the yacht, Miss
Carstairs."
"If I seem at all addicted to melancholia to-day," said Mary, "you won't be surprised, will you? My mother isn't well—really! When I left her an hour ago, you might have supposed that we were parting for a year. And then, besides I had an omen—a mysterious warning…."
Varney's gaze became fixed. "A warning?"
She laughed. "A rather queer and scary one! I'll tell you presently."
"My dear," said Mrs. Marne, when Varney had turned to explain the working of the boat-falls to Hare, "who is he? He is simply cunning!"
Mary laughed. Hare, who was listening to boat matters with one ear only, thought it was rather a conscious laugh.
"Only John Richards. He came up in his car yesterday to spend a day with us. How do you like my hat?"
"It's a love," said Mrs. Marne. "A great big love."