“Say on, O sage,” said the lad.
“I was going to say that of course, though we are men now, one does feel a bit of the boy sometimes, and as if it was pleasant now and then to have a good lark.” As the young fellow spoke he passed his hand thoughtfully over his cheeks and chin. “What are you grinning at?” he continued.
“Not grinning, old fellow; it was only a smile.”
“Now, none of your gammon. You were laughing at me.”
“Oh! Nothing!” said Murray, with the smile deepening at the corners of his mouth.
“There you go again!” cried Roberts. “Who’s to keep friends with you, Frank Murray, when you are always trying to pick a quarrel with a fellow?”
“What, by smiling?”
“No, by laughing at a fellow and then pretending you were not. Now then, what was it?”
“Oh, all right; I only smiled at you about your shaving so carefully this morning.”
“How did you know I shaved this morning?” cried the midshipman, flushing.