Almost unconsciously the whole Walk drifted into the song, so that the last lines were being sung by everybody. The Admiral, indeed, who never knew when a song was over, went on long after everybody else had finished. In his enthusiasm he added weird shouts to the words:—"Oh! Damme! Ahoy! What can the matter be?"
Mrs. Poskett burst into loud sobs. "Oh, don't!—I can't bear it!"
Ruth turned fiercely on the Admiral. "Brute!" she cried.
Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was stopping both ears with his hands. "Mong doo! Mong doo!" he drawled. And then in that curiously official manner he sometimes dropped into, "Pray silence for the Admiral's song!" It was a very irritating manner.
Sir Peter made furiously towards him. "By Jehoshaphat—!"
But Madame, ever alert, stopped him. She held out a full cup. "Sir Peter," she said, with her sweetest smile, indicating Mrs. Poskett, "take her another dish of tea."
"Me, Ma'am!" protested the outraged Admiral; but there was no resisting that smile, and he took it like a lamb—an angry lamb. "It's a confounded conspiracy," he growled. He thrust the tea under Mrs. Poskett's nose. "Your tea, Ma'am!"
"How sweet of you!" sobbed Mrs. Poskett.
The Admiral danced with rage. "Dash it and hang it, Ma'am, you're crying into it!"
Marjolaine had taken Miss Ruth aside. "Where is Barbara?" she asked.