really had no intention of donning fancy dress, but the complete discomfiture of Pagett was too tempting to be forborne.
"What do you mean?" I said. "Of course I shall wear fancy dress. So will you."
Pagett shuddered.
"So go down to the barber's and see about it," I finished.
"I don't think he'll have any out sizes," murmured Pagett, measuring my figure with his eye.
Without meaning it, Pagett can occasionally be extremely offensive.
"And order a table for six in the saloon," I said. "We'll have the Captain, the girl with the nice legs, Mrs. Blair"
"You won't get Mrs. Blair without Colonel Race," Pagett interposed. "He's asked her to dine with him, I know."
Pagett always knows everything. I was justifiably annoyed.
"Who is Race?" I demanded, exasperated.
As I said before, Pagett always knows everything—or thinks he does. He looked mysterious again.
"They say he's a Secret Service chap, Sir Eustace. Rather a great gun too. But of course I don't know for certain."
"Isn't that like the Government?" I exclaimed. "Here's a man on board whose business it is to carry about secret documents, and they go giving them to a peaceful outsider, who only asks to be let alone."
Pagett looked even more mysterious. He came a pace nearer and dropped his voice.
"If you ask me, the whole thing is very queer, Sir Eustace. Look at that illness of mine before we started"
