"And, furthermore, I truly didn't know you were here. I think you may rest satisfied that that flame is out, although—By the way, I believe I could make some verses on that subject containing these lines:
"'I do not want the flame,
I better like the coal—'
meaning, of course, that I hope our friendship may continue."
She smiled. "There are no objections to that," she said.
"Perhaps not, perhaps not," he said, clutching his chin with his hand; "but some other lines come into my head. Of course, he didn't want the coal to go out.
"'He blew too hard,
The flame revived.'"
"That will do! That will do!" cried Olive. "I don't want any more of that poem."
"And the result of it all," said he, "is only a burnt match."
"Nothing but a bit of charcoal," added Olive.
At this moment up came the captain. Olive had told him all about Mr. Locker, and he was not glad to see him. Olive noticed this, and she spoke quickly. "Here's Mr. Locker, uncle; he has dropped down quite accidentally at this place."