"Savvy some," said the Krooboy doubtfully. "Does Missy sell dem bugs to steamah pursers, an' come ashore an' say dem dam' greedy hounds?"
"If you've got that idea in your aboriginal mind," said Mr. Balgarnie with a yawn, "don't let me crowd it with anything nearer the truth. You bring Miss Kate plenty of butterflies without the pretty rubbed off, and presently she dash you a new top hat with a gold band to it."
"I no fit for take dash from Missy," said White-Man's-Trouble with dignity. "I bring her plenty-too-many bugs for nix. I fit for know my job."
The purser stared with tired eyes. "So you honor her with your respectful admiration, too, do you? I wish I could get her knack. There, clear out with you, and put the door on the hook. Take your dirty hands away from that tooth-brush, confound you, and get out. It's my time for siesta."
In the meanwhile Laura Slade had gone out on the bridge deck, had found a chair without a card on it, and had dragged it up alongside her friend. She waited patiently till one of the long calculations had been worked out and the result entered up in the pocket-book, and then, when the figures were torn small, she jumped up and took the scraps of paper from the other girl's hand.
"Please let me do something, Kate. At least I can throw them overboard for you."
Miss O'Neill laughed, and plied her palm leaf fan. "My dear girl, I'm most pleased to be tempted away from work. In school days, as you will remember, I was worse than you were at sums. I've had to grind at them since, but it's not made me love them any the more. Why can't I be a rich woman without working for it?"
Kate turned to her friend and opened her eyes wide. They were brown eyes, and someone once described them as talkative. But people who knew her better were very conscious of the fact that Miss Kate O'Neill's eyes only expressed things when she willed that they should do so.
"Do I want to be rich? Well, of course. One can't have things or do things unless one has money. And if I don't get money, no one will for me; or, at least, I'd rather they wouldn't. Of course, you have got Mr. Carter to work for you, Laura; but I am sure, when you put it into cold words, you'd like him to make money, too. You don't want to live all your days on the Coast here, the pair of you. You look forward to going home, and having a house and a garden, and a motor car, and a man to drive it. And you'd like to have good servants and nice frocks. Yes, especially nice frocks."