“Her?” said Flower, curtly. “Who?”
“The lady you didn’t want to see,” said Fraser, restlessly.
“You let your ideas run away with you, Jack,” said Flower, yawning. “It wasn’t likely I was going to turn out and dress to see any girl you liked to invite aboard.”
“Or even to bawl at them through the speaking-trumpet,” said Fraser, looking at him steadily.
“What sort o’looking girl was she?” enquired Flower, craning his neck to see what was in front of him.
“Looked like a girl who meant to find the man she wanted, if she spent ten years over it,” said the mate grimly. “I’ll bet you an even five shillings, cap’n, that she finds this Mr. Robinson before six weeks are out—whatever his other name is.”
“Maybe,” said Flower, carelessly.
“It’s her first visit to the Foam, but not the last, you mark my words,” said Fraser, solemnly. “If she wants this rascal Robinson——”
“What?” interrupted Flower, sharply.
“I say if she wants this rascal Robinson,” repeated the mate, with relish, “she’ll naturally come where she saw the last trace of him.”