Ross gave out another little chirp of laughter. “You'll remember what they say of a secret, Captain—too big for one, right for two, tight for three.”
“A man and his wife are one, sir—so that's two altogether,” said Pete.
Kate took up the scissors and went on with her work uneasily. Ross twisted on his seat and said, “Well, I feel I must tell you, Peter.”
“Quilliam, sir,” said Pete, charging a pipe; but Ross pretended not to hear.
“Only natural, perhaps, for it—in fact, it's about our father.”
“Tongue with me, tongue with thee,” thought Pete, lighting up.
“Five years ago he made me an allowance, and sent me up to London to study law. He believes I've been called to the English bar, and, in view of this vacant Deemstership, he wants me admitted to the Manx one.”
Pete's pipe stopped in its puffing. “Well?”
“That's impossible,” said Ross.
“Things haven't come with you, eh?”