“I was feeling all right,” replied Hignett churlishly, “until you began the farmyard imitations. What sort of a day is it?”
“Glorious! The sea....”
“Don’t talk about the sea!”
“Sorry! The sun is shining brighter than it has ever shone in the history of the race. Why don’t you get up?”
“Nothing will induce me to get up.”
“Well, go a regular buster and have an egg for breakfast.”
Eustace Hignett shuddered. He eyed Sam sourly. “You seem devilish pleased with yourself this morning!” he said censoriously.
Sam dried the razor carefully and put it away. He hesitated. Then the desire to confide in somebody got the better of him.
“The fact is,” he said apologetically, “I’m in love!”
“In love!” Eustace Hignett sat up and bumped his head sharply against the berth above him. “Has this been going on long?”