“Like a fa—like a uncle, mum,” said the thoughtless Mr. Legge. “Gave ’im a passage on the ship and fairly spoilt ’im. We was all surprised at the fuss ’e made of ’im; wasn’t we, Harry?”
He turned to his friend, but on Mr. Green’s face there was an expression of such utter scorn and contempt that his own fell. He glanced at the skipper, and was almost frightened at his appearance.
The situation was ended by Mrs. Hunt entering the house and closing the door with an ominous bang. The men slunk off, headed by Mr. Legge; and the mate, after a few murmured words of encouragement to the skipper, also departed. Captain Hunt looked first at the small cause of his trouble, who had drawn off to some distance, and then at the house. Then, with a determined gesture, he turned the handle of the door and walked in. His wife, who was sitting in an armchair, with her eyes on the floor, remained motionless.
“Look here, Polly—,” he began.
“Don’t talk to me,” was the reply. “I wonder you can look me in the face.”
The skipper ground his teeth, and strove to maintain an air of judicial calm.
“If you’ll only be reasonable—,” he remarked, severely.
“I thought there was something secret going on,” said Mrs. Hunt. “I’ve often looked at you when you’ve been sitting in that chair, with a worried look on your face, and wondered what it was. But I never thought it was so bad as this. I’ll do you the credit to say that I never thought of such a thing as this.... What did you say?... What?”
“I said ’damn!’” said the skipper, explosively.
“Yes, I’ve no doubt,” said his wife, fiercely. “You think you’re going to carry it off with a high hand and bluster; but you won’t bluster me, my man. I’m not one of your meek and mild women who’ll put up with anything. I’m not one of your—”