"Oh, I say, you know, I reolly mustn't!" breathed Mrs. Perrigord, putting her hand against her breast; "just fancy! What would deah Les-leh ay? But if you two positively outrageous people positively insist, you know… Heh-heh-heh! Here's loud cheaahs!"
"What I mean to say is this," said Morgan vigorously. "If there's any toast to be drunk, first off there ought to be a toast drunk to Mrs. Perrigord, Skipper. She's been the best sport in the world this after, Skipper, and I'd like to see anybody deny it. She came with us on a fool's errand, and never asked one question. So what I propose—"
He was speaking rather loudly, but he would not have been heard in any case. The entire dining-saloon had begun to converse in an almost precisely similar vein, with the exception of one or two crusty spoil-sports who stared in growing amaze. They could not understand, and would go to their graves without the ability to understand, that mysterious spirit which suddenly strikes and galvanises ocean liners for no reason discernible to the eye. Laughter in varying tones broke like rockets over the tumult; sniggers, giggles, guffaws, excited chuckles growing and rushing. More corks popped and stewards flew. It being against the rules to smoke in the dining-saloon, for the first time a mist of smoke began to rise. The orchestra smashed into a rollicking air out of The Prince of Pisen; then the perspiring leader came to the rail of the balcony and bowed to a roar of applause, dashed back and whipped his minions into another. Jewels began to wink as total strangers drifted to one another's tables, made appointments, gesticulated, argued whether they should stay here or go up to the bar; and Henry Morgan ordered a third bottle of champagne.
"… Oh, no, but I say, reolly!" cried Mrs. Perrigord, dining back in a sort of coy alarm and talking still more loudly, "you mustn't! You two outrageous people are positively outrageous, you know! It's simply dreadful how you take advantage of a pooah, weak woman who" — gurgle, gurgle, gurgle—"it's reolly lovely champagne, isn't it? — who can't defend herself, you know. Just fancy, you wicked men, I shall be positively tight, you know. And that would be owful, wouldn't it?" She laughed delightedly. "Simply screamingly, deliriously owful if I am tight when 1 am tight, and—"
"What ay say iss diss," declared Captain Valvick, tapping the table and speaking in a confidential roar. "De champagne iss all right. Ay got not'ing against de champagne. But it iss not a man's drink. It do not put hair on de chest. What we want to drink iss Old Rob Roy. Ay tell you what. After we finish diss bottle we go up to de bar and we order Old Rob Roy and we start a poker game…"
"… but I say, you mustn't be so owfully, owfully formal," said Mrs. Perrigord chidingly. "Henry. Theah! I've said it, haven't I? Oh, deah me! And now you'll think I'm positively" — gurgle, gurgle, gurgle—"positively dreadful, won't you? But I have so many things I should like to discuss with you, you know…
A new voice chirped:
"Hullo!"
Morgan started up, rather guiltily, to see Peggy Glenn, in a green evening gown that looked rather disarranged, negotiating the last step of the staircase and bearing down on them. She was beaming seraphically, and something in her gait as she moved through the layers of smoke struck Morgan's eye even out of a warmth of champagne. Mrs. Perrigord turned. "Why, my deah!" she cried, with unexpected and loud affection. "Oh. how reolly, reolly wonderful! Oh, do, do come heah! It's simply wonderful to see you looking so spic hic, so sick and span after oil those owful things that happened to you last night whee! And—"
"Darling!" cried Peggy ecstatically.