“Modern warships are armored coffins,” Falconer answered far more bluntly than he would with a civilian, but their conversations last night had established an easy trust between them and left him in no doubt of her superior intelligence. “I saw Russians drown by the thousands fighting the Japs in the Tsushima Strait. Battleships went down in minutes. All but the spotters in the fighting tops and a few men on the bridge were trapped belowdecks.”

“Can I assume that our goal is to build warships that will sink slowly and give men time to get off?”

“The goal for battleships is to keep fighting. That means protecting men, machinery, and guns within a citadel of armor while keeping the ship afloat. The sailors who win stay alive.”

“So today is a happy day, launching such a modern ship.”

Captain Falconer glowered at Marion under his heavy eyebrows. “Between you and me, miss, thanks to Congress limiting her to 16,000 tons, Michigan has eight feet less freeboard aft then the old Connecticut. She’ll be wetter than a whale, and if she ever makes eighteen knots in heavy seas, I’ll eat my hat.”

“Obsolete before she is even launched?”

“Doomed to escort slow conveys. But if she ever tangles with a real dreadnought, it better be in calm waters. Hell!” he snorted. “We should anchor her in San Francisco Bay to greet the Japanese.”

A petite girl wearing a very expensive hat secured to her red hair with Taft-for-President “Possum Billy” hatpins stepped up. “Excuse me, Captain Falconer. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I had a wonderful time at a picnic on your yacht.”

Falconer seized the hand that she had offered tentatively. “I remember you indeed, Miss Dee,” he grinned. “Had the sun not shone on our clambake, your smile would have made up for it. Marion, this young lady is Miss Katherine Dee. Katherine, say hello to my very good friend Marion Morgan.”

Katherine Dee’s big blue eyes got bigger. “Are you the moving-picture director?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yes, I am.”

“I love Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight! I’ve seen it four times already.”

“Well, thank you very much.”

“Do you ever act in your movies?”

Marion laughed. “Good Lord, no!”

“Why not?” Captain Falconer interrupted. “You’re a good-looking woman.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Marion said, casting a quick smile at Katherine Dee. “But good looks don’t necessary show up on film. The camera has its own standards. It prefers certain kinds of features.” Like Katherine Dee’s, she thought to herself. For some magical reason the lens and the light tended to favor Katherine’s type, with her petite figure, large head, and big eyes.

Almost as if she could read her mind, Katherine said, “Oh, I wish I could see a movie being made.”