He was no match for Brendon. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. “Hola, Michelle. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. ’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour.
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