“Sit down a minute,” said Vang faintly. “We can shift this here. Or give it to Diana ... there you are.”
He set a plate down on the floor, and wiped the seat of a chair with his bare arm.
“I’ve worked it out,” said Egholm, without preface. “The boiler must be vertical. With the first experimental boat, of course, it’s more than ever important to save space. Can’t make out why I didn’t hit on that before.”
There were half a score of other things he had “worked out.” Vang listened attentively, wrinkling up his forehead and gazing ceilingwards, as if something were passing far above his head.
Egholm felt comfortable now, and in a burst of geniality exclaimed:
“Here, Vang, you’d better let me have a look at you. I’m something of a doctor—natural healer, you know. I was patching up Madam Hermansen’s leg the other day. Have you seen a doctor at all? What did he say?”
“No, I haven’t,” said Vang, looking away.
“All the better; nothing to distract my instinctive powers. Where’s the pain?”
“Oh, you know all the time,” said Vang piteously, laying one hand on Egholm’s arm. “Don’t go teasing me now, there’s a good fellow.”
Egholm rose to his feet in surprise; his imagination was weaving intricate tangles in a moment.