‘Those are all I have, I’m afraid,’ he told her. ‘I left New York because my father’s business went bankrupt, and because of gambling debts. If you want anything out of me, I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my being nothing more than good-looking.’

‘You joke,’ she said crossly.

‘I wish I did. Unfortunately, it’s true.’

She took away her hand. ‘You’re just trying to make a fool of me.’

‘Why should I want to do that?’

‘You’re just trying to make me look stupid, that’s all. You’re just like Lucas. You’re a crazy man!’

‘Maria, listen—’

‘No, I don’t listen,’ she said hotly. ‘You strut around in all your wonderful clothes, you talk like a rich man, and it’s all wind! All you want is to get into my bed! You’re a crazy trickster, you understand that?’

‘You don’t have a bed,’ he reminded her. ‘You were trying to get into mine.’

‘Same thing!’ she snapped, tossing her oily black hair. ‘And now who looks after my baby?’

‘Your baby? What baby?’

‘This one!’ she pouted, slapping her stomach.

Collis couldn’t keep himself from grinning. The sheer nerve of this girl was unbelievable. His luck, this morning, was patently with him. If she had continued to believe him rich, and if his carnal urgings had been overwhelming enough, they would have gone for a tussle on the top berth of his cabin, and afterwards, being the sort she was, she would have plainly blamed him for making her pregnant. He stood there in his nightshirt on the dawn-lit deck, his cheroot stuck in his mouth, his hands on his hips, and watched her righteous fury with the detached amusement of a spectator at a solo theatrical performance.

‘You think you can use me!’ she spat. ‘You think I’m nothing but dirt! You think you can take my body and pay nothing for it! Well, mister, I was never a whore, not for money, and I won’t be your whore for free!’

‘I didn’t actually ask you to be,’ said Collis, puffing smoke.

She snatched the cheroot right out of his mouth, crushed it up in her fist, and tossed it over the side.

‘That was regrettable,’ he said. ‘I was just beginning to enjoy the flavour.’

‘You’re mocking me,’ she breathed.

‘A little, yes. But you can’t expect me to take you seriously when you’re ranting and screaming so much. And you can’t expect me to feel guilty because I don’t want to look after some old fellow’s illegitimate baby.’

Maria-Mamuska slapped her stomach again, so hard that Collis was sure her baby must have been wondering what it had done wrong, so early in its life, to come in for such a pasting. ‘You men are all monsters!’ she told him. ‘You all make me pregnant! You all make me your slave! Well, I’ll have revenge on you! You see!’

‘For heaven’s sake, calm down,’ Collis said. ‘You’re making a damned exhibition of yourself.’