“I asked why you were so blooming cheerful,” answered the other.
“I was only thinking,” said Joyce.
“It seems to be an unpleasant operation, old man.”
“Don’t you see it’s of her?” said another man standing by. “They’re always like that.”
“Perhaps it’s better to put her out of your mind and grin—isn’t it?” retorted Joyce, pointedly, for the railer’s quasi-matrimonial squabbles had already become a byword in the company. McKay burst into a loud laugh, in which those who heard joined, and the railer retired in discomfiture.
“Had him there,” said McKay. “Well, how’s the world, anyway?”
“Oh, all right!” replied Joyce, vaguely.
“Blake and I took his missus and two of the girls for a sail to-day,” said the other. “If the whole crew hadn’t been sick, we should have had a gay old time. Been doing anything?”
“No. What is there to do?”
“At Southpool? Why, there’s no end of things. I wish we went to some more seaside places, late as it is.”