Simpson. Yes, sir, of course——
Jack. Then, what do you mean by it? Look here, Simpson, if you’re not very careful I’ll not let you speak to mam’zelle at all. (He says this as if he had ordered Simpson out to instant execution.) I’m trying to make everything as nice and comfortable as I can for you. I’ve said a lot of nice things to mam’zelle about you, and tried to make her like you too, and this is how you serve me. (Putting down his fist impressively on the table.) I won’t have another word said about the Navy. We’ve done with it. Mam’zelle and I are to be married on Thursday. (He puts out one hand towards her and she takes it.) We shall sail for Singapore a day or two after. At Singapore I shall charter a small vessel, and we shall go for a long cruise—and I don’t know when we are coming back. Now, Simpson, did you grasp all that?
Simpson. Yes, sir.
Jack. You’re quite sure you understand about the Navy?
Simpson. Yes, sir.
Jack. No more whining about it?
Simpson. No, sir.
Jack. No more lamentations about your fifteen years’ service?
Simpson. No, sir.
Jack (sitting). Then serve the breakfast! (During the conversation at the table, Simpson makes two or three attempts to break in and explain the real cause of his distress—but his courage fails each time. He shows by his manner, also, that the discussion of their plans causes him acute suffering.)