New York. But every drop of blood in her is seafaring
blood."

"Good!" He sat for a moment in silence, then spoke of something else.
But when he was ready to go, he included Nancy in an invitation. "If you
and Miss Greer could lunch with me to-morrow on my yacht--"

I was not sure about Nancy's engagements, but I thought we might. "You
can call us up in the morning."

Nancy brought the Drakes and Bob Needham back with her for supper, and
Mimi Sears was with Anthony. Supper on Sunday is an informal
meal--everything on the table and the servants out.

Nancy, clothed in something white and exquisite, served the salad. "So
your young viking didn't stay, Elizabeth?"

"I didn't ask him."

It was then that she spoke of his frowning gaze. "Does he always stare
like that?"

Anthony, breaking in, demanded, "Did he stare at Nancy?"

I nodded. "It was her eyes."

They all looked at me. "Her eyes?"

"Yes. He said that her cloak should have matched them."

Anthony flushed. He has a rather captious code for outsiders. Evidently
Olaf had transgressed it.

"Is the man a dressmaker?"

"Of course not, Anthony."

"Then why should he talk of Nancy's clothes?"

"Well," Nancy remarked, "perhaps the less said about my clothes the
better. I was in my bathing suit."

Anthony was irritable. "Well, why not? You had a right to wear what you
pleased, but he did not have a right to make remarks about it."

I came to Olaf's defense. "You would understand better if you could see
him. He is rather different, Anthony."

"I don't like different people," and in that sentence was a summary of
Anthony's prejudices. He and Nancy mingled with their own kind.
Anthony's friends were the men who had gone to the right schools, who
lived in the right streets, belonged to the right clubs, and knew the
right people. Within those limits, humanity might do as it pleased;
without them, it was negligible, and not to be considered.

After supper the five of them were to go for a sail. There was a moon,
and all the wonder of it.

Anthony was not keen about the plan. "Oh, look here, Nancy," he
complained, "we have done enough for one day--"

"I haven't."

Of course that settled it. Anthony shrugged his shoulders and submitted.
He did not share Nancy's almost idolatrous worship of the sea. It was
the one fundamental thing about her. She bathed in it, swam in it,
sailed on it, and she was never quite happy away from it.

I heard Anthony later in