“Don’t ask me, please; it is awful! I am truly glad that I am leaving—for many reasons!”
“Have you finished copying those awful details of the defective armour plates?” she asked, suddenly dropping her voice so that it barely reached the other side of the table.
“Only last night,” he answered; “it was very hard work, and so ridiculous! It went into the box with the rest of the finished work this morning.”
“Did the Admiral engage a new typewriter?” she inquired.
He shook his head.
“No; he says that he has nearly finished.”
“I am so glad,” she said. “You have had no temptation to flirt then with anybody else, have you?”
“To flirt—with anybody else! Oh! Miss—I mean Blanche. Do you think that I could do that?”
His little round face shone with sincerity and the heat of the unaccustomed wine. His eyes were watering a little, and his spectacles were dull. The girl looked at him in amusement.