He lit a cigarette, telling himself that he would smoke it and then go to bed; but, even as he threw the match away, he saw that Josette and José had come on to the deck, and that the girl had seen him. It was too late to retreat. They were coming over to him.
“So you are here,” she said accusingly. “This is José.”
José, who was wearing a very tight black overcoat and a grey soft hat with a curly brim, nodded reluctantly, and said: “Enchanté, Monsieur,” with the air of a busy man whose time is being wasted.
“José does not speak English,” she explained.
“There is no reason why he should. It is a pleasure to meet you, Señor Gallindo,” he went on in Spanish. “I very much enjoyed the dancing of you and your wife.”
José laughed rudely. “It is nothing. The place was impossible.”
“José was angry all the time because Coco-the negress with the snake, you remember? — had more money from Serge than we did, although we were the principal attraction.”
José said something unprintable, in Spanish.
“She was,” said Josette, “Serge’s lover. You smile, but it is true. Is it not true, José?”
José made a loud noise with his lips.
“José is very vulgar,” commented Josette. “But it is true about Serge and Coco. It is a very drôle story. There was a great joke about Fifi, the snake. Coco was very fond of Fifi, and always used to take it to bed with her. But Serge did not know that until he became her lover. Coco says that when he found Fifi in the bed, he fainted. She made him increase her wages to double before she would consent to Fifi’s sleeping alone in its basket. Serge is no fooclass="underline" even José says that Serge is no fool; but Coco treats him like dirt. It is because she has a very great temper that she is able to do it.”
“He needs to hit her with his fist,” said José.
“Ah! Salop!” She turned to Graham. “And you! Do you agree with José?”
“I have no experience of snake dancers.”
“Ah! You do not answer. You are brutes, you men!”
She was obviously amusing herself at his expense. He said to José: “Have you made this trip before?”
José stared suspiciously. “No. Why? Have you?”
“Oh no.”
José lit a cigarette. “I am already very tired of this ship,” he announced. “It is dull and dirty, and it vibrates excessively. Also the cabins are too near the lavabos. Do you play poker?”
“I have played. But I don’t play very well.”
“I told you!” cried Josette.
“She thinks,” said José sourly, “that because I win I cheat. I do not care a damn what she thinks. People are not compelled by law to play cards with me. Why should they squeal like stuck pigs when they lose?”
“It is,” Graham admitted, tactfully, “illogical.”
“We will play now if you like,” said José, as if someone had accused him of refusing a challenge.
“If you don’t mind, I’d sooner leave it until to-morrow. I’m rather tired to-night. In fact, I think that if you will excuse me I shall get to bed now.”
“So soon!” Josette pouted, and broke into English. “There is only one interesting person on the boat, and he goes to bed. It is too bad. Ah yes, you are being very bad. Why did you sit next to that German at dinner?”
“He did not object to my sitting beside him. Why should I object? He is a very pleasant and intelligent old fellow.”
“He is a German. For you no German should be pleasant or intelligent. It is as the French people were saying. The English are not serious about these things.”
José turned suddenly on his heel. “It is very boring to listen to English,” he said, “and I am cold. I shall go and drink some brandy.”
Graham was beginning to apologise when the girl cut him short. “He is very unpleasant to-day. It is because he is disappointed. He thought there were going to be some pretty little girls for him to roll his eyes at. He always has a great success with pretty little girls-and old women.”
She had spoken loudly, and in French. José, who had reached the top of the companionway, turned and belched deliberately before descending.
“He is gone,” said Josette. “I am glad. He has very bad manners.” She drew in her breath, and looked up at the clouds. “It is a lovely night. I do not see why you wish to go to bed. It is early.”
“I’m very tired.”
“You cannot be too tired to walk across the deck with me.”
“Of course not.”
There was a corner of the deck below the bridge where it was very dark. She stopped there, turned abruptly and leaned with her back to the rail so that he was facing her.
“I think you are angry with me?”
“Good gracious, no! Why should I be?”
“Because I was rude to your little Turk.”
“He’s not my little Turk.”
“But you are angry?”
“Of course not.”
She sighed. “You are very mysterious. You have still not told me why you are travelling on this boat. I am very interested to know. It cannot be because it is cheap. Your clothes are expensive!”
He could not see her face, only a vague outline of her; but he could smell the scent she was using, and the mustiness of the fur coat. He said: “I can’t think why you should be interested.”
“But you know perfectly well that I am.”
She had come an inch or two nearer to him. He knew that, if he wanted to do so, he could kiss her and that she would return the kiss. He knew also that it would be no idle peck, but a declaration that their relationship was to be the subject of discussion. He was surprised to find that he did not reject the idea instantaneously, that the immediate prospect of feeling her full smooth lips against his was more than attractive. He was cold and tired: she was near, and he could sense the warmth of her body. It could do no one any harm if … He said: “Are you travelling to Paris via Modane?”
“Yes. But why ask? It is the way to Paris.”
“When we get to Modane I will tell you exactly why I travelled this way, if you are still interested.”
She turned and they walked on. “Perhaps it is not so important,” she said. “You must not think I am inquisitive.” They reached the companionway. Her attitude towards him had changed perceptibly. She looked at him with friendly concern. “Yes, my dear sir, you are tired. I should not have asked you to stay up here. I shall finish my walk alone. Good night.”
“Good night, Señora.”
She smiled. “Señora! You must not be so unkind. Good night.”
He went below amused and irritated by his thoughts. Outside the door of the saloon he came face to face with Mr. Kuvetli.
Mr. Kuvetli broadened his smile. “First officer says we shall have good weather, sir.”
“Splendid.” He remembered with a sinking heart that he had invited the man to have a drink. “Will you join me in a drink?”
“Oh no, thank you. Not now.” Mr. Kuvetli placed one hand on his chest. “Matter of fact, I have pain because of wine at table. Very strong acid stuff!”
“So I should imagine. Until to-morrow, then.”
“Yes, Mr. Graham. You will be glad to arrive back at your home, eh?” He seemed to want to talk.
“Oh yes, very glad.”
“You go to Athens when we stop to-morrow?”
“I was thinking of doing so.”
“Do you know Athens well, I suppose?”
“I’ve been there before.”
Mr. Kuvetli hesitated. His smile became oily. “You are in a position to do me service, Mr. Graham.”