“That’s rather a hopeless programme,” said Gorman. “I don’t suppose you can row much.”
“I cannot row at all,” said the King.
“The navy is a pretty rotten-looking tub,” said Gorman. “But it can hardly help catching you. You won’t even be out of sight before it has steam up.”
The King sat down, looking very miserable. He made no pretence of liking the prospect before him.
“And Corinne,” he murmured, “will be sick, as a dog is sick. She is sick always at sea.”
Gorman and Donovan felt sorry for him. Donovan was particularly irritated at the situation in which he found himself.
“If it wasn’t for my daughter——” he said. “But, damn it all, what can I do?”
“I wonder,” said Gorman, “if it would be possible to—well, shall we say regularize the situation?”
He looked inquiringly at Donovan and then at the King. Donovan grasped the idea first.
“That’s it,” he said. “Look here,” he turned to the King. “Why the hell don’t you marry her at once? Then everything would be all right.”