Rosa, who was already back at the glass, working with feverish haste, made no reply. The bell rang again, and a third time, Rosa finally answering it in a coiffure that looked like a hastily constructed bird's nest.
"There's your letter," she said, returning with a face still flushed. "Take it and go."
"Thankee," said the boatswain. "Was they very frightened?"
"Take it and go," repeated Rosa, with cold dignity. "Your young woman might be expecting you; pity to keep her waiting."
"I ain't got a young woman," said Mr. Walters, slowly.
"You surprise me!" said Rosa, with false astonishment.
"I never would 'ave one," said the boatswain, rising, and placing the letter in his breast-pocket. "I've got along all right for thirty years without 'em, and I ain't going to begin now."
"You must have broke a lot of hearts with disappointment," said Rosa.
"I never could see anything in young wimmen," said the boatswain, musingly. "Silly things, most of 'em. Always thinking about their looks; especially them as haven't got none."
He took up the empty glass and toyed with it thoughtfully.