He spilled his soup, he overturned a glass of lemonade, and his appetite failed when he was no more than a quarter of the way through.“I’m not hungry,” he said sullenly, when his great-uncle’s man of affairs expressed surprise when he looked away in aversion from a specially prepared fish dish.“But all small boys are hungry in the middle of the day.” The voice was sharp, the expression coldly critical. “You have just been several weeks at sea. You must have an appetite!”“But I haven’t” Richard swallowed. “As a matter of fact, I feel—I feel a bit sick!”“Richard!” Caroline exclaimed.“Nonsense!” de Capuchos overrode her impatiently. “You are merely attempting to attract attention to yourself. It is a bad habit ... And it seems to me you have been allowed to develop quite a few bad habits.” His dark, accusing glance swung to Caroline. “Ricardo is six, is it not?” he said. “Or is he seven years of age?”“He had his seventh birthday on board ship,”
