Strangely enough, Captain Norris did not seem angry. He stared at her for a moment. Then he gave a sort of laugh, which the men around him echoed. Indeed, to them it seemed droll, that such a scrap of a lad should bear the very name that Captain Norris had made feared through all the countryside.
"My namesake, are you?" said Captain Norris.
He laid a hand on Merrylips' shoulder, but not unkindly, and drew her to him.
He laid a hand on Merrylips' shoulder and drew her to him.
"Sit you down, sir," he bade, "and do me the honor to dine with me, Master Tibbott."
So Merrylips sat beside Captain Norris, on the form at the head of the table, and ate her share of the bakemeat, like a soldier and a gentleman. She meant to be as still as a mouse, for she bore in mind all Munn's warnings. But when she was spoken to, she had to answer, and she was spoken to a great deal.
For those tall officers were very tired of doing and saying the same thing, day after day. They were as pleased with this round-eyed, sober little boy as Merrylips herself would have been with a new plaything. They chaffed her and asked her foolish questions, only to make her talk.