“Yes, I think she is.”
“Don’t you think she is the prettiest woman on the ship?”
“Yes, I think she is.”
“Are you afraid of pretty women?”
“No, I don’t think I am.”
“Then, tell me why, the moment she appeared on the deck yesterday morning, you were so much agitated that you spilled most of my coffee in the saucer?”
“Did I appear agitated?” asked Morris, with some hesitation.
“Now, I consider that sort of thing worse than a direct prevarication.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Why, a disingenuous answer. You know you appeared agitated. You know you were agitated. You know you had a camp-stool, and that you intended to sit down here and drink your coffee. All at once you changed your mind, and that change was coincident with the appearance on deck of the handsome young lady I speak of. I merely ask why?”