"But I do worry," Sophie declared, "and I shall certainly tell Justin what I think of his foolhardiness."
"Well, you take your tea," said the captain, soothingly, "and I'll call up and see if they have come in."
Taking tea with the captain meant the tasting of many strange and wonderful flavors. The little man had clung to all the traditions of his seagoing forefathers, who had brought back from the Orient spicy things and sweet things—conserved fruits and preserved ginger, queer nuts in syrup, golden-flavored tea, and these he served with thick slices of buttered bread of his own making.
"You might have had a lobster," he said to Sophie, "if it hadn't been so near your dinner time. I've got 'em fresh cooked."
But Sophie shook her head. "I like your sweet things better. Bobbie and I are the ones who don't like lobster. He says that I'm a sort of oasis in a desert of shell-fish."
"He's got a nice boat," said the captain, "and he's got a nice girl. I like Doris."
Sophie's mind went back to Bettina. "Oh, will you telephone, please, captain?"
The captain came back with the news that nothing had been seen of the "Gray Gull," but that there was no need to worry, as the day was perfectly calm, and that, as he had Miss Dolce with him, he would certainly not fly high.
Sophie refused to be comforted. "I shall tell Anthony," she said; "he must speak to Justin."
"I don't see what Blake's got to do with it," said the blunt captain; "young Ford may tell him to mind his business——"