John stared palely. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. Melusine seized her chance. She told us that it was a disguise. The dining saloon was done in mahogany and sandalwood, with eight cabins, four to port and four to starboard. Wu may have news for us. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face.
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