Miss Mallory had heard from the ship's officers, something of his relations with Captain Carreras. He laughingly deprecated his adequacy as a money-master.
"That's quite extraordinary," she said thoughtfully. "New York has not taught me to expect such from a man. Then the American dollar is not the sign of the Holy of Holies—to you?"
… Her talk was blithe. Presently she chaffed him for absences from the saloon during the rough weather.
"And you are such an old sailor, too," she finished.
"But my sailing was largely—sailing," he said. "It's different under steam."
"But we have been nearly three days in a turquoise calm, and I have watched you. A goldfinch would pine away on the nourishment you have taken! How do you manage to live?"
"You see how well I am," he said.
"You're not nearly——" Miss Mallory checked herself, and swallowed several times, before venturing again: "Do you know what I thought?"
"No."
"That you were in the clutch of mortal fear, lest you lose your fortune in the fighting."