"I'm ... I'm not interferin' with you, Henry. I'm not just askin' for the sake of askin' ... but ... well, do you know anything about those ... things?"
He moved slightly as he spoke, as if, by moving, he could take the edge off his question.
"I know about them, father. Something!" Henry said huskily, for his father's questions embarrassed him strangely.
"You've never ... you've never!..."
"No, father!"
Mr. Quinn turned away and looked over the side of the boat. He seemed to be watching a piece of orange peel which floated between the wall and the side of the boat. The first bell of warning to friends of passengers was sounded, and he turned sharply and looked at his son. "I'll have to be goin' soon," he said.
"That's only the first bell, father," Henry replied. "There's plenty of time yet!"
"Aye!" Mr. Quinn glanced about the deck which was now covered by passengers. "You'll have plenty of company goin' over," he said.
"Yes!"
They were making conversation with difficulty. Mr. Quinn felt nervous and a little unhappy because Henry was leaving him so soon, and Henry felt disturbed because of the strange conversation he had just had with his father. He had a shamed sense of intrusion into privacies.