“Yes; don’t you?” said Bob.
“No, not at all,” said the young Malay, smiling; and rising he followed the middy on deck.
“That’s better,” said Bob; “sit down in that cane chair. I say, what’s your name?”
“Ah; what is yours?”
“Robert Roberts; commonly known to my intimates as Bob.”
“Intimates? what are intimates?”
“Best friends,” said Bob.
“Yes, I understand. May I be an intimate?”
“To be sure you may,” said Bob, holding out his hand, which the other eagerly grasped. “But no larks, you know.”
“Larks! what is larks?” said Ali, eagerly.