Captain Monk consulted the chronometer. "It's not worth while turning in," he said: "we sail soon after day-break."
"Far be it from me to play the giddy crab, then." Phinuit busied himself with the decanter, glasses and siphon. "Let's make it a regular party; we'll have all to-morrow to sleep it off in. If I try to hop on your shoulder and sing, call a steward and have him lead me to my innocent white cot; but take a fool's advice, Lanyard, and don't try to drink the skipper under the table. On the word of one who's tried and repented, it can not be done."
"But it is I who would go under the table," Lanyard said. "I have a poor head for whiskey."
"Thanks for the tip."
"Pardon?"
"I mean to say," Phinuit explained, "I'm glad to have another weakness of yours to bear in mind."
"You are interested in the weaknesses of others, monsieur?"
"They're my hobby." "Knowledge," Monk quoted, sententious, "is power."
"May I ask what other entries you have made in my dossier, Mr. Phinuit?"
"You won't get shirty?"