“Good morning,” said Evans, entering the salon.
“Good morning,” said the Chaplain, giving the phrase its full meaning. “There is practically no rocking,” he observed happily.
“This may be a quiet trip yet,” said Evans. He sat down and Smitty brought him breakfast. The Major was in a good mood. He was not even pale today, Evans noticed.
“I hear we may be in Arunga tomorrow night,” said the Major.
“That’s what we hope,” said Evans. Breakfast tasted better than it ever had before.
“I shall really be glad when this trip is over,” said the Chaplain. “Not of course that I haven’t every confidence.... But, you know, I just wasn’t designed for ocean-going. You don’t think it will rock much, do you?”
Evans shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Duval and his assistants arrived and sat down at their end of the table.
“Didn’t blow up after all, did it, Skipper?” said Duval.
“We’re not there yet,” Evans could not resist saying this. Duval liked to be positive. Especially about things which were none of his business.