“I suppose you know what will be your best course?”
“I believe you gave me that countersign even as far back as the dock end at College Point when you left me: ‘A closed mouth spills no mush.’”
“Exactly!” And he quitted the room for the deck immediately, while I whirled at the opening of a door and rose as Miss Stella entered.
“Why, are you all finished?” she cried. “I certainly must be a sleepyhead![Pg 44]”
She was as fresh and clear as the summer morning sifting through the open ports.
“Well, scarcely a sleepyhead,” I replied. “Your father hasn’t shown up yet, so you’re not the last.”
“Oh, yes, I guess I am the last, for all that,” she returned, digging away in dainty defiance at an iced grapefruit.
“Because, you see,” she added, “there goes Saki now with daddy’s toast and coffee.” She nodded toward the Jap, who was just entering the owner’s stateroom. “You see”—and she laughed lightly—“yesterday was picturetaking day. Now it’s dark room, and Heaven knows when we’ll see him next—that is, if he’s like he used to be, dear old dad!”
“Used to be?” I couldn’t check the question in spite of me.
“Why, yes. Didn’t you know? I haven’t even been aboard this Ruby Light in over three years. I suppose, even when daddy made the bet then, he didn’t explain that I’d been in a convent in France ‘most three years, and needed some excitement? No?”