"This is my after cabin," said the admiral, smiling. "What do you think of it?"
"It's the drawing-room," said Milly promptly. Joan kicked her.
"We call it a cabin on a ship," corrected the admiral.
"Oh, I see," said Milly. "But this isn't a ship!"
"It's the only ship I've got now," he laughed.
Joan thought: "I wish she wouldn't behave like this, what can it matter what he calls the room? I wish Milly were shy!"
But Milly, quite unconscious of having transgressed, went up and nestled beside him. He put his arm round her and patted her shoulder.
"It's a very nice ship," she conceded.
Above the mantelpiece hung an oval portrait of a girl. Joan liked her pleasant, honest eyes, blue like the admiral's, only larger; her face looked wide open like a hedge rose.
Joan had to ask. She thought, "It's cheek, I suppose, but I do want to know." Aloud she said: "Please, who is that?"