"Rules are made to be broken."
"Not space rules. And I'm still skipper, you know."
"No matter how—" Andrews was going to say "incompetent" but he stopped short as Norton got lazily up out of his chair and came forward. Andrews realized he could push Norton just so far, then the pilot would lose his laziness and begin getting violent. Andrews could not stand up to violence. He was not big enough. He was not young enough.
Alice said calmly, "Stop it, both of you! You'll just make trouble for all of us."
Norton sat down again. Doggedly he said, "We'll eat in an hour."
Andrews turned to Alice. "Miss Hemingway, are you, perhaps, a bit hungry?"
She shook her head quickly. "Frankly, I couldn't get it down and keep it."
"Then perhaps in an hour," said Andrews. "I was only thinking of your comfort."
Alice squirmed. Both of them were, in their own way, fighting to control the situation. Andrews had just oozed out of the indignity of having an order or request countermanded. Norton had just ignored an implied insult.
So long as they struggled, quietly, nothing would result but well-rubbed nerves. But if open conflict broke out it might get rough indeed.