"Just to think! Would she?" she drawled. "Is she in town?"
"Who? Mrs. Ball? I should say not. She's down at Big Wreck Cove, I tell you."
"Oh, really? I thought by the way you spoke she was outside—in her car." She tossed her head with that same tantalizing smile, almost a grimace. "What did you want to tell me?"
Tunis realized that he could not talk to her here, after all. The idle girls at the end of the counter were already whispering, and their smiles were poignant javelins of ridicule. The captain of the Seamew knew that he was far beyond his depth.
"Where can I talk to you?" he asked.
"I get away for my lunch hour in a few minutes. I could talk to you then. But us girls ain't supposed to entertain our friends at the counter." She flashed him another amused and quite comprehending glance.
"I've a message for you from Aunt Prue and the captain. Captain Ira Ball. He's her husband," explained Tunis jerkily.
"Oh, really? Mr. Judson is coming this way." She flirted open a card of cheap lace lying on the counter. "Won't this do, sir?"
"Cat's foot! I don't want any lace," growled the captain of the Seamew.
"And I don't want to lose my job," rejoined the girl sharply.