"Dangerous only when interrupted. I will now resume my lyric:—
| "While the porpoises porped |
| And the passengers torped—" |
"The passengers what-ed?"
"Torped. What you've been doing this morning."
"I haven't!" she denied indignantly.
"Of course you have. You've been in a torpor, haven't you? Well, to be in a torpor, is to torp. Now I'm going to do it all over again, and if you interrupt this time, I'll sing it.
| "There once was a seaworthy child |
| Whose feelings could never be riled. |
| While the porpoises porped |
| And the passengers torped, |
| He sat on the lee rail and smiled." |
"Beautiful!" she applauded. "I feel much better already."
"Don't you think a little walk would put you completely on your feet?" he inquired.
"On yours, more probably." She smiled up at him. "Come and sit down and tell me: are you a poet, or a lunatic, or a haberdasher, or what kind of a—a Daddleskink are you?"