"And ugly," I supplemented.
He flushed all over his face. "You make me feel a silly girl-man by comparison," he cried. "A man ought to be ugly and strong-looking like you. I'd give half my fortune to possess that jaw."
"What a boy it is!" I said delightedly, for I was proud of my jaw, and I love flattery.
"I'm having a cot made now; it will be put over there for you. You'll share my diggings, won't you? I want us to be friends," beamed the Captain.
There was something so ingenuous and charming in his frankness that I assented at once.
"It's funny," he said afterwards. "But I detested you at first. Have a cigar. This box of Cabanas is for you. They're prime. I've more in my kit when they are finished. Lie down and rest while you smoke one, won't you? Lunch won't be ready for an hour yet, and you must be fagged."
I wasn't a bit, but I lay back and puffed a mouthful of delicious smoke with a long-drawn sigh of luxury.
"You needn't talk. Miss Ottley says you don't like talking," said the Captain. He lit a cigar and sat down on his kit box. "I'm a real gabbler, though," he confessed. "Do you mind?"
"No, fire away, sonny!"