‘Oh, pardon me. Come right down. Gangway, fellows. Oh say, pardon me, but have you been making a picture? Can I have a keek? I’m just crazy about sketching. Look, boys—isn’t that cute? The wharf? My, my, it’s a shame you haven’t been able to finish it, isn’t it? It would have been swell! Look, boys, it’s the wharf. Maybe a snapshot would help. We’ll surely have to watch our step with an artist on board. Say, let’s get acquainted. We’ve been celebrating and we feel fine. Meet the mob. I’m Virginia Van Maes.’

‘My name’s Troy,’ said a voice that Alleyn could scarcely recognize. A series of elaborate introductions followed.

‘Well, Miss Troy, I was going to tell you how Caley Burt painted my portrait in Noo York. You’ve heard of Caley Burt? I guess he’s one of the most exclusive portraitists in America. Well, it seems he was just crazy to take my picture—’

The anecdote was a long one. Agatha Troy remained silent throughout.

‘Well, when he was through—and say, did I get tired of that dress? —it certainly was one big success. Poppa bought it, and it’s in our reception-hall at Honolulu. Some of the crowd say it doesn’t just flatter, but it looks good to me. I don’t pretend to know a whole lot about art, Miss Troy, but I know what I like.’

‘Quite,’ said Agatha Troy. ‘Look here, I think I’d better get down to my cabin. I haven’t unpacked yet. If you’ll excuse me—’

‘Why, certainly. We’ll be seeing you. Say, have you seen that guy Alleyn around?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know—’

‘He’s tall and thin, and I’ll say he’s good looking. And is he British? Gee! I’m crazy about him. I got a little gamble with these boys, I’ll have him doing figure eights trying to dope out when the petting-party gets started.’

‘I’ve kissed goodbye to my money,’ one of the youths said.

‘Listen to him, will you, Miss Troy? But we certainly saw Mr Alleyn around this way a while back.’

‘He went up to the boat deck,’ said a youth.

‘Oh,’ said Miss Troy clearly. ‘That man! Yes, he’s up there now.’

‘Atta-boy!’

‘Whooppee!’

‘Oh damn!’ said Alleyn softly.

And the next thing that happened was Miss Van Maes showing him how she’d made a real Honolulu lei out of Fijian frangipanni, and asking him to come down with the crowd for a drink.

‘Has this party gone cuckoo or something? We’re three rounds behind the clock. C’m on!’

‘Virginia,’ said a youth, ‘you’re tight.’

‘What the hell! Is it my day to be sober? You coming, Mr Alleyn?’

‘Thank you so much,’ said Alleyn, ‘but if you’ll believe it, I’m a non-drinker at the moment. Doctor’s orders.’