“Yes. Color of the sea. Now, what do I say? Funny thing, it’s on the very tip of my tongue. Don’t tell me—”
“Color of—”
“Don’t tell me.”
“I was only going to give you your cue again ‘Color of the sea’—”
“‘What man can measure the heighth of the mountains? They are—’”
“Didn’t Captain Patch suggest that it really makes the lines run better to say height?”
“I said height.”
“Oh, did you? I’m so sorry. How stupid of me. Let’s start again ... ‘color of the sea.’”
“‘What man can measure the heighth of the mountains?...’”
Bill passed them once or twice, and each time he heard Alfred he groaned. By and by Martyn Ambrey, as though he had been the first person to think of it, came up to me and said: