The others were grouped around her, their smiles a little stiff now. As she swung toward them they instinctively drew back a little. She swung her arm forward then, the loosely knotted handkerchiefs fluttered to the ground, the big bottle slipped in her gloved hand and fell with a smart smack into the waters of the bay below.

“Christ! That’s bad luck!” Dave Husack shouted.

Czar’s voice. “Easy now, Dave. Easy.”

Chris closed her eyes a moment, opened them wide and wet. “I’m so sorry.” She set her jaw a little, she looked at Dina. “I’m sure you could have done it beautifully.”

“Forget it, Christine,” Czar said, shortly. “Good thing it was only domestic, at that.”

Louise Husack seemed relieved to the point of happiness. “I’m glad it’s over, it was a silly notion anyway. I’m getting cold in this damp place, if we’re going over the boat let’s go and get through with it and have dinner.”

Christine stood a moment staring down into the water as though expecting to see the big green bottle bobbing and taunting her there. An arm, friendly and protective, brushed across her shoulder. She looked around at Bay.

“You did that purposely.”

“I did not!”

“I don’t mean you did it purposely on purpose. I mean you wanted to do it and you couldn’t help it. It was done when Czar first gave you the bottle.”

“Oh.” Did he think she was a little idiot who knew nothing about Freud and Jung and everything after two years at Baranof College! “Oh, that. Psychologically … Yes, I suppose so.” She dusted one gloved hand with the other to rid her hand of the memory, as she had seen people do it in a play.

“You get cuter by the minute.”

“Oh, do shut up.” Suddenly she felt older and wiser than he—than anyone in the group now plodding up the gangway.

“Is that the way you talk to the Baranof boys?”

“I’m not in Baranof.”

“But you wish you were.”

She glanced quickly around, they were at the foot of the gangway, the others were ahead of them, Dina turned to wait for them, studiedly.

“No, I don’t. I thought I would. I did, for a little while. But now I don’t.”

Czar turned at the ship’s rail, he made a gesture of urging to the two loiterers. His voice sounded a little hollow for so big a man; or perhaps the ghostly empty ship sent back a cavernous note. “Come on, come on, Chris! Don’t keep us waiting, too.” Too.

“Can we go for a ride?” Christine asked as she stepped on deck.

They laughed tolerantly at this. Dave Husack thrust one great paw forward and pinched her cheek between two vise-like fingers (already she had learned to dodge that sadistic demonstration of affection, but this time she had not fore-seen it). “Listen to the kid! The Buccaneer’s going out at eight o’clock, headed for dry dock, but we’re not going out on her. We’ll be eating a good thick steak at the Olympic, I hope.” He stuck his head in at the door of the great saloon. “Heh, boys, I brought you company. Ladies.”