"For a talk. I've got something to tell you."
"It'll have to wait," said the captain, gruffly. "We are landing a cargo of sugar machinery here, and I've got my hands full."
"I don't want your hands," said Bobby, quietly; "I want your ears. There's something I've just got to tell you."
"I can't listen. I'm due on the bridge now."
He escaped for the time being, but later In the morning, when the commotion of arrival was at its height, and the passengers were beginning to go ashore, he found Bobby on the bridge beside him. He fancied he saw defiance written all over her, from the crown of her white hat to the tip of her white shoes.
"Captain," she said, "It won't take a minute."
He was on the point of refusing when she laid her hand on his.
"Cut away!" he said, looking straight ahead of him. "Make it short."
"It's about Mr. Hascombe. He's—he's asked me to marry him."
The captain jerked his hand away and brought it down on the rail with a resounding blow.