“Our friend,” I said, “knows something of every ship. He seems to have gone about the seas prying into things considerably.”
Marlow smiled.
“I’ve seen her, at least once.”
“The finest sea-boat ever launched,” declared Mr. Powell sturdily. “Without exception.”
“She looked a stout, comfortable ship,” assented Marlow. “Uncommonly comfortable. Not very fast tho’.”
“She was fast enough for any reasonable man—when I was in her,” growled Mr. Powell with his back to us.
“Any ship is that—for a reasonable man,” generalized Marlow in a conciliatory tone. “A sailor isn’t a globe-trotter.”
“No,” muttered Mr. Powell.
“Time’s nothing to him,” advanced Marlow.
“I don’t suppose it’s much,” said Mr. Powell. “All the same a quick passage is a feather in a man’s cap.”