"The mosquito?"
"Even so."
"Then why don't you say so in good English?" and Compton dropped away from his high-flown speech. "I bet that's a shark kicking up all that phosphorescence."
"He swims in fire, like the—like the——"
"Sprat!"
"Like Apollo, you lean-minded insect. With every sweep of his tail he sends out diadems of liquid gems, and his broad nose shovels fire before him like a——"
"Stoker. Exactly; and if we had a lump of fat pork and a hook we could drag him up and collect a basketful of jewels. I dare say he is leering up at us with a green and longing eye."
"Did you hear that cry?" asked Venning, suddenly.
"No." "Was it the shark whispering, do you think?"
"Shut up and listen."