“Who was the man, Tess?”
“Are you really, really going away for two whole days?”
“I am, sweet.”
“Harvey dear, I'll tell you all about it. You won't be angry?”
“All depends. Who was the man?”
His laughing eyes belied his assumed sternness of visage, for in her eyes there shone a light so serenely pure that he knew he had naught to dread.
“A very, very nice man, sir. Now try and guess who it was?”
“Old Schuler, the fat German trader at Yap.”
“Oh, you wretch, Harvey! He's been married three times, and has dozens and dozens of all sorts of coloured children.... Now there! Guess again or I'll twist this side of your moustache until I make you cry.... Harvey dear, who was the girl whose photograph was over your bunk in father's schooner?”
“I forget. Most likely it was my sister Kate,” was the prompt reply.