“We are both liars and impostors. He is no sailor; merely a shady city man who has just served his time for dishonesty”?
He was talking cleverly of the sea, using nautical terms, fashioning his sentences tersely and rudely like a bluff sailor. What a clever, heartless villain he was—and how she loved him!
Nettie came in to lay the cloth for dinner. Pamela got up and walked across the room mechanically, beckoning to the maid to follow.
When they were outside in the sunny, narrow corridor she said—looking steadily into the girl’s unexpressive eyes:
“That gentleman is my brother—Mr. Edred Crisp.”
“The piker!—oh, miss, I ask your pardon.”
“He is a sailor,” Pamela went on steadily, “and he was wrecked. He went through dreadful hardships. Everything he had was lost at sea. He was obliged to sell machines for a living. It was quite by accident that he happened to come here and find me.”
“It was Providence sent him, miss.”
“Yes, Providence—of course. And you will lay for one extra at dinner, and you will get the best room ready.”
“To be sure I will, miss. Wrecked at sea! Whatever will Cook say when I tells her?”