‘They must wait till the Skipper comes back,’ said Troth, and the others agreed.
Peter John was getting desperate. ‘We’re rather grubby,’ he said. ‘Could we wash our hands?’
‘Certainly,’ said the lady. ‘Come down to my cabin, both of you.’ She seemed to Peter John to look meaningly at the others and slightly nod her head. She took Anna’s hand and led her out, and the boy followed. He lingered a little beyond the door, and he heard, or thought he heard, some one of the three exclaim: ‘My God, we have got the trump card now. This will keep the Skipper in order.’
Miss Ludlow took them down a steep companion into a narrow alley lined with cabins. The big one at the end was hers, and she ushered the children into it with the utmost friendliness. ‘You’ll find everything you want there, my dea
