know what
another man might see in Purdy. But a woman! He's middle-aged, quiet,
and looks tired. That woman is young and lively, and she'll be bored to
death with him on such a trip."

"But I thought you said . . ."

"What have I said? I've said nothing. Jessie's away to sea as cook.
Why not? I'm going inside. Are you coming in?"

Crossing the floor of the office, Hanson caught Macandrew's arm. "Your
lot are signing-on now." The master of the _Medea_ was round with the
official tallying the men by the ship's papers. "I see it," Macandrew
answered. "I've signed. I wanted to catch the old man before he began
that job."

"We're hung up for Purdy," Hanson told him. "Nobody seems to know where
he is." Hanson was amused.

"Yes. Well . . . he'll be here all right . . . and now this new job
which you think so funny, young Hanson. See it goes through. Presently
it won't be so funny. Hang on to it then."

Hanson was surprised by this, and a trifle hurt. He was beginning to
speak, making the usual preliminary adjustment of his spectacles, when a
movement near the door checked him. His hands remained at his glasses,
as if aiding his sight to certify the unbelievable.

"What's this?" he murmured. "Here's Purdy. Isn't that the _Negro Boy's_
barmaid with him . . . is she with him?" He continued to watch,
apparently for some sign that this coincidence of his captain and a
barmaid in a public office was designed.

The bent gaze of the master of the _Cygnet_ might have noticed the boots
of his engineer, for he took in the room no higher than that. Then he
came forward with his umbrella, still in contemplation. It might have
been no more than a coincidence. She, too, approached, a little behind
him, but obscuring his dull meagreness, for she was a head taller, and a
bold and challenging figure. Her blond hair distinguished her even more
than the emphasis of her florid hat. Her pallor that morning refined the
indubious coarseness of her face, and changed vulgarity into the
attractive originality of a spirited character. Many there knew her, but
she recognized nobody. She yawned once, in a fair piece of acting, and
in her movements and the poise of her head there was a disdain almost
plain enough to be insolence. Purdy turned to her, and the strange pair
conferred. I heard Hanson say to himself: "What on earth." She left
Purdy, bent her head with a gracious but stressed smile to Macandrew, and
wen