Nestir rubbed his bald head. "Sir," he said by way of preamble, "I know you have the greatest sensibility in questions of duty."
"That's quite so, y'know. I pride myself upon it, if I do say so."
"Exactly. Argot y calpex. No sacrifice is too great."
"True; true."
"Well, then, say the first day of Wenslaus, that would be—ah, a Zentahday—I may depend upon you to wed Wanda Miller, the bosun's daughter, yes?"
"No," said the captain.
"Come now, sir. I realize she is the daughter of a crewman, but—"
"Father," said the captain, "did I ever tell you about the time I led an expeditionary force against Zelthalta?"
"I don't believe you have."
"Then I will tell you. Came about this way. I was given command of fifty-three thousand Barains. Savage devils. Uncivilized, but fine fighters. I was to march them ninety-seven miles across the desert that...."