“Who? Oh, your husband. You see I didn’t know him well,” said Perrin in confusion. “He was—I think he was a lot thinner than he is now.”
“How did he look in his uniform?”
“His uniform?” said Perrin. “You see. I didn’t see him in his uniform. You see it was after he’d been kicked—— After he’d—— You know what. What is the word? After he’d been——”
Stammering and blushing, he managed to get out of his difficulty. Olivia thought that he had been afflicted by that impediment in his speech, or partial aphasia, which sometimes checked his conversation. She pitied him, while feeling that his companionship was painful. He himself turned very red, and bit his tongue. He thought that the six weeks at sea should have taught him the guard for all such sudden thrusts.
“After he’d left the army?” she said kindly.
“Yes. Yes. It was,” he answered. He turned again to draw the image of the Broken Heart, as he had seen her from without, some seven long weeks before. Olivia gave him a moment’s grace to recover his natural colour. Captain Cammock caught her eye, and saluted as he took his stand with his quadrant. She was smiling back at him when her husband’s head appeared on the poop ladder. Perrin looked up quickly.
“I’d better hide this, Olivia,” he said. “If it’s for your husband’s birthday. Shall I hide it?”
As she nodded a swift answer her husband stepped on to the poop.
Stukeley advanced rapidly and kissed his wife, with some show of fervour, for policy’s sake. Then with a quick snatch he caught Perrin’s drawing, lying half hidden upon the skylight seat under one of Olivia’s wraps.
“Look at little Pilly’s cow,” he said. “Look, Olivia. Did you draw this, little Pilly?”