Fancy laughed for the first time, a silvery trickle of laughter.
"Why should you think I have, Mr. Yellam?"
"It seems to me likely."
"Well, I am fond of one boy. He's too sweet for anything."
"Is he?"
"Yes, I'd like you to meet him. Maybe I'll show you his photograph one fine day. It's in my trunk. He's a sailor-boy, and at sea."
"Ah. At sea, is he? My mother says that a woman is silly to marry a sailor. Why? Because, if you love him, he is always at sea, and if you hate him, he bides at home."
Fancy laughed again.
"Then my boy, after he marries, will be always at sea. How miserable for his wife!"
"It is a fair warning."