The big sailor rolled his bold eyes from the groom to the bride, but returned no answer.
The groom's voice rose to a note of vexation.
"I said I wanted the brandy," he said.
Farallone's voice was large and free like a fresh breeze.
"I heard you," said he.
"Well," snapped the groom, "get it."
"Get it yourself," said Farallone quickly, and he fell to whistling in a major key.
The groom, born and accustomed to command, was on his feet shaking with fury.
"You damned insolent loafer—" he shouted.
"Cut it out—cut it out," said the big sailor, "you'll wake her."