"Yes, Miss Andrews?"
Maud Andrews, Cuddles firmly cradled to her ample bosom, left her brother's side and marched toward the life-skiff.
"Tell Sparks to make that a fifty-fifty division," she said. "There will be five of us in the hills."
Enid Andrews bleated faintly. Crystal, still kneeling, stared at her aunt incredulously. J. Foster Andrews vented his indignation in a sudden, blustering roar. "Maud! Don't be a blasted idiot! Come back here this minute!"
Maud Andrews continued to surge inexorably forward.
"I'm not," she grunted, "being an idiot! It's you who are, my dear, fat, dimwitted brother! I'm a selfish, pampered old fool, but I know common-sense when I hear it, and I know a man when I see one. Furthermore, silly as you may think it, I have a ridiculous desire to keep on living. I may have to work to do that, and I'm not overly fond of work, but if Mr. Malcolm will have me—?"
"Just plain 'Malcolm,' Miss Andrews," said Greg gravely, gratefully. "And I'm happy you see it my way."
"Tut! I'm not doing you a favor, Malcolm! I'm just looking out for myself, as I always do. Well, Sparks, don't stand there yawping like my thick-pated brother! What can I do to help?"
She waddled away. Greg glanced hopefully at those still waiting, immobile.