“Captain Courtenay is too polite to remind us that we are intruders,” she said lightly. “We forget that he is busy. Joey, candidly canine, did not try to hide his feelings.”
Isobel swung her chair round to face the door.
“This is quite the best place in the ship,” she said. “I am very comfortable, thank you. Please don’t send us away, captain.”
Before Courtenay could answer, the officer of the watch looked in.
“Cape Caraumilla bearing sou’west of the Buei Rock, sir,” he announced, and vanished again.
“Don’t hurry,” said Courtenay, taking up his cap. “I must leave you for a few minutes.”
He was gone, with Joey at his heels, and there was a brief silence.
“Really, Isobel, we should go back on deck,” urged Elsie, uneasily. Already she half regretted the impulse which led her to intervene in her friend’s special hobby.
“I like that. I didn’t credit you with such guile, Elsie Maxwell. You snap up my nice captain beneath my very nose, and coolly propose that I should vacate the battlefield. Oh dear, no! I can’t talk literature, but I can flirt, and I have not finished with Arthur yet by a long chalk.”
“Isobel, if you knew how you hurt me—”