When all attention was focused outwards, Dickie Barrett stole a glance at Ngaiti. Gone was the affable whaler c*m interpreter. The inimical look was intense and dangerous and lasted but a second. Its meaning and intent made very clear to Ngaiti.
"Now why didn't I think of that," stated Wakefield as he straightened his jacket and adjusted his cover.
Eleanor had seen Barrett turn to look at Ngaiti; she was surprised at the vehemence displayed by Barrett over such a trivial matter. She moved closer to Andrew who was craning his neck to catch sight of the spectacle.
Colonel William Wakefield looked down at the medals that hung resplendently from his left breast. Noticing an errant medallion slightly askew, he straightened it so it now lay as it should. It was imperative that he and the othe
