It may have been accident—the unprincipled opportunist of a godling who rules these matters will league himself with any chance—that the Tyro's eyes fell upon her hand, which lay, pink and warmly half-curled in her lap, and remained there. It certainly was not accident that the hand was hastily moved.
"Do you suppose Baby Karl and his mother are safe?" she inquired, in a voice of extreme detachment.
"Just as safe as we are. By the way, you heard what Judge Enderby suggested to me about 'safety first'?"
Her face took on an expression of the severest innocence. "No. Something stupid, I dare say."
"He advised me to go and sit on the rudder for the rest of the voyage."
"Wouldn't it be awfully wet—and lonely?"
"Unspeakably. Particularly the latter."
"Then I wouldn't do it," she counseled.
"I won't," he promised. "But, Miss Grouch, the dry land may be just as lonely as the wet ocean."
"Haven't you any friends in Europe?"