"It's nice to be out," said Rosa, ignoring a feeble attempt on his part to release his arm. "You've no idea how fresh the air smells after you've been shut up all day."
"You've got a comfortable berth, though, haven't you?" said Mr. Walters.
"Fairish," said Rosa. "There's plenty of work; but I like work—housework."
The boatswain said "Oh!"
"Some girls can't bear it," said Rosa, "but then, as I often say, what are they going to do when they get married?"
"Ah!" said the boatswain, with an alarmed grunt, and made another attempt to release his arm.
"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Rosa, making a pretence of freeing him. "I'm afraid I'm leaning on you; but I sprained my ankle yesterday, and I thought—"
"All right," said Mr. Walters, gruffly.
"Thank you," said Rosa, and leaned on him heavily. "Housework is the proper thing for girls," she continued, with some severity. "Every girl ought to know how to keep her husband's house clean and cook nicely for him. But there—all they think about is love. What did you say?"
"Nothing," said Mr. Walters, hastily. "I didn't say a word."