“Well, my dear Leonard, then—”
“Yes, that’s better.”
“Aren’t you going right away down at once? Do you mean to say you’ll let the grass grow beneath your shoes for an hour?”
And now Douglas put in his oar.
“Why, Mr Fraser,” he said, “look at us. Run your eagle eye over us from stem to stern. Rough and unkempt. Covered with salt. Barnacles growing on us. Could you, Mr Fraser, suggest our putting in an appearance before ladies in such a plight? No, sir, the tailor must first and foremost come upon the scene.”
Mr Fraser laughed heartily.
“Well, well,” he said, “young men will be young men, but I’ll warrant you, gentlemen, the ladies would be right glad to see you, barnacles and all.”
And the old gentleman laughed and rubbed his hands, as if he had said something very clever indeed.
Once upon a time, as the fairy stories begin, my good ship M— had arrived at Portsmouth after a long commission of cruising along the shores of Eastern Africa and round India.