Later, she flung herself into the chair alongside me on deck. "I'm drunk, my dear," she announced merrily. "I do wish people wouldn't give me champagne. I am rattling with it."
I laughed encouragingly.
"Ah, this is good!" she said, stretching herself. "The one quiet hour of the day. Let's talk about men."
"Don't you want to sleep?" I asked.
"No! I grudge the hours given to sleep. Life is too short. I've been looking forward to a rational conversation with you." She glanced down the deck. "If only my husband does not interrupt us. The poor fellow complains that I neglect him on shipboard."
"He seems very devoted," I remarked.
She favoured me with an indescribably wicked, merry smile. "Oh, my dear, if you only knew! You would never imagine, seeing him so perfectly dressed, so indiffere
