Charlotte became suddenly aware of a changed atmosphere. Martin and Maclaughlin were looking discreetly into their plates, Mrs. Maclaughlin was gazing with a hostile eye at Kingsnorth.
“You certainly do know a great deal about Filipino customs,” she said meaningly.
“You keep still, Jenny,” Maclaughlin threw in hastily. His wife tossed her head scornfully, but subsided. Kingsnorth went on eating. His expression was not agreeable. Charlotte threw herself into the silence that followed.
“Martin, who is that bucolic looking Japanese that I saw strolling up the beach this morning?”
“Bucolic! What do you mean by that long word? You are always springing the dictionary upon me.”
This charge was an indication that Collingwood was highly pleased. It was the nearest open tribute he ever paid to his wife’s education. She made no reply but smiled at him, indulgent of his wit.
“Well, explain,” Martin went on teasingly. “What does it mean?” But Charlotte only went on smiling.
“Greek for hayseed,” Kingsnorth put in lightly. “You know that word, Collingwood?”
“Right you are. He is a hayseed. That is our new diver. He came down on the lorcha last week, and we picked him up with the launch. Been promenading around here, did you say?”
“In kimono and parasol,” said Charlotte.