“Have a good time?” yelled Martin when he saw him.
“Sure. Don’t I always?”
“Sure.”
Bervick climbed aboard and stood beside Martin who was adjusting the hatch cover.
“Who were you with last night? Olga?”
“No. I was with Angela.”
“That pig?”
“I know it.” Bervick sighed and began, for the first time, to recall Angela’s large torso. “She’s got a nice personality,” he said absently.
“Don’t they all?” said Martin. He kicked the edge of the canvas into place. “Let’s have chow.”
Evans was sitting alone at the table when they came in. He muttered a good morning. They sat down.