He pulled himself together suddenly. Owing to his stature, that was not a very difficult task.
"Man!—ye're tired. I'll be talkin' no more to you. Tumble in and sleep till we get to Glasgow."
As he cleared away the dishes, I approached him regarding my fare.
"Look here, steward,—I had not time to book my berth or pay my passage. What's the damage?"
"Ten and six, sor, exclusive av meals," he answered, taking out his ticket book in a business-like way.
"What name, sor?"
"Name!—oh, yes! name!" I stammered. "Why!—George Bremner."
He looked at me and his face fell. I am sure his estimation of me fell with it. I was almost sorry I had not obliged him by calling myself Algernon something-or-other.
I paid him.
"When do you expect to arrive in Glasgow?" I asked.