The captain was holding his sides and rocking with laughter.
"Now, now," he protested. "Let her get it out of her system. 'Beaver's' a splendid old custom. It's almost Victorian."
Betty dimpled, resting her chin on the backs of her interlaced hands. "Don't pay any attention, Captain Burgee. Charlie's a horrid old fuss-pot. Why shouldn't I yank at your beard? I like you."
"Betty, the man is a pirate!"
"Not any more. He's retired. You heard him say so yourself. Anyhow, I like him. I think he'd make an awfully nice husband for Cousin Aurelia."
Charles reached for the water, and drained his glass in a spluttering gulp.
"I think so, too," the captain agreed, looking pleased. "I thought so as soon as I saw her. She's exactly my type." He sighed. "But she does seem a little unfriendly. Do you suppose a guitar and some old-fashioned songs at her window might—well, make her want to get better acquainted?"
Charles thought, "Not that sour old prune!" Surprised at himself, he swallowed the words just in time.
Betty snickered. "Poor Cousin Aurelia! I simply can't get over her staying locked in with nothing but Vegetable Remedy. Why, it tastes just like shoe polish. And it's all because she's scared to death to eat or drink anything here. She believes that Sugar Plum's really an—an uninhibited planet!"
She stopped. She stared at the captain. "What's the matter?"