If I was you
I'd go and rout him out! Not much use in a honeymoon when one's boozed
and the other ain't. Now if you was to have a drop too--"
She did not hear what he said. She did not stop to think of dignity or
anything else; the same panic that had almost made her jump overboard at
Melbourne sent her running across the quay, over the gangway on to the
ship. The voices of the men guided her towards them on the silent ship.
Louis was sitting on the hatchway; two champagne bottles were overturned
beside him; he was just pouring whisky from a bottle into a tumbler as
he saw her.
His jaw dropped and he tried to stand up.
"Here's your missus," laughed Ole Fred, who was leaning against him.
Marcella looked from Louis to Fred.
"So you didn't go to New Zealand?" said Marcella quietly, looking at him
with blazing eyes. He blinked at her and tried to smile affably.
"Of course I never thought you would, you horrible, wicked, idiotic old
liar!" she said.
Ole Fred looked thoroughly startled. Louis gazed at Marcella and then at
him.
"Now, ole man--I pu' it to you," said Ole Fred thickly. "Is tha' the
sort of talk you le' your wife use to your bes' pals?"
Louis shook his head reprovingly at her.
"Marsh-shella! Naughty lil' girl! 'Pol'gize! Good Ole Fred! Bes' pal ev'
man had, Mar-shella! Going t' Newze-eeelan'! All 'lone--way from
'smother--way from Ole Country! Give him kish, ole girl--no
ill-feeling--"
Ole Fred got up unsteadily, grinning, and lurched towards her muttering,
"No, no ill-feeling.
Pages:
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298