“Oh,” he said. “What give you that idea?”
“Do you think it possible?”
“I’ll think it over,” he said curtly. “I’m obliged to you for telling me.” He made one or two quick turns about the deck. “Here you, boy,” he cried, “coil them ropes up on the pins.” He glanced down at the quarter-deck guns to see if the leaden aprons were secured over the touch-holes. “Mr. Perrin,” he continued, “about Captain Margaret. Has he got anything on his mind?”
“Yes, captain. He’s had a lot of trouble. A woman.”
“I thought it was something of that sort. Rum or women, I say. Them and lawyers. They get us all into trouble sooner or later.”
“He was in love with a girl,” said Perrin. “He was in love with her for four years. Now she’s gone and married some one else.”
“I suppose she was a society lady,” said Cammock, investing that class with the idea of vices practised by his own.
“She was very beautiful,” said Perrin.
“And now she’s married,” said Cammock.
“Yes. Married a blackguard.”