He walked over and kissed her forehead and patted her cheek. "Course not," he said, comfortingly.
He left her sitting on the bed and strolled down the officers' corridor, whistling.
He made a mental note to have the bosun send some of the crew in tomorrow to wash down these bulkheads. They needed it. In one corner a spider spun its silver web.
He jogged up the companionway, turned left and felt the air as fresh as spring when he stepped under the great ventilator.
And beneath it lay one of the crew.
He kicked the man several times in the ribs until he came to consciousness.
"Can't sleep here, my man," Harry explained.
"Awww. Go way an' le' me 'lone, huh?"
"Here. Here." He pulled the fellow erect and slapped him in the face briskly. "This is the officers' corridor."
"Oh? Ish it? Schorry. Shore schorry, shir. So schorry."