“It is something about Tom that I want to tell you. You wish him well, don't you?”
After this she could not refuse to come out on deck, and once there she listened patiently to that white ghost muttering and mumbling above her drooping head.
“It seems to me, Captain Jorgenson,” she said after he had ceased, “that you are simply trifling with me. After your behaviour to me this morning, I can have nothing to say to you.”
“I have a canoe for you now,” mumbled Jorgenson.
“You have some new purpose in view now,” retorted Mrs. Travers with spirit. “But you won't make it clear to me. What is it that you have in your mind?”
“Tom's interest.”
“Are you really his friend?”
“He brought me here. You know it. He has talked a lot to you.”
“He did. But I ask myself whether you are capable of being anybody's friend.”
“You ask yourself!” repeated Jorgenson, very quiet and morose. “If I am not his friend I should like to know who is.”