“Yes.”
“Why, I heard the men piped up, and everybody’s there.”
“Yes, all of ’em. Russell’s there too, and Whitney.”
“Whitney?”
“Yes, I think the skipper’s going to have your bare head exhibited, and the doctor’s to give the men a lecture on the new growth of hair on the human skull.”
“Get out; he doesn’t want me, Bob. I shall be obliged to give you that licking.”
“No gammon, really. You are to come at once.”
“Is this serious?”
“Yes: honour.”
“But—oh, Bob, I’m such a guy.”