"I don't understand it myself," said Rosa, takings an appraising glance at him from under the brim of her hat; "I can't think why people want to get married when they're comfortable."
"Me neither," said the boatswain.
"Being friends is all right," said Rosa, meditatively, "but falling in love and getting married always seemed absurd to me."
"Me too," said Mr. Walters, heartily.
With a mind suddenly at ease he gave himself over to calm enjoyment of the situation. He sniffed approvingly at the eau-de-Cologne, and leaned heavily toward the feather. Apparently without either of them knowing it, his arm began to afford support to Miss Jelks's waist. They walked on for a long time in silence.
"Some men haven't got your sense," said Rosa, at last, with a sigh. "There's a young fellow that brings the milk—nice young fellow I thought he was—and all because I've had a word with him now and again, he tried to make love to me."
"Oh, did he?" said Mr. Walters, grimly. "What's his name?"
"It don't matter," said Rosa. "I don't think he'll try it again."
"Still, I might as well learn 'im a lesson," said the boatswain. "I like a bit of a scrap."
"If you are going to fight everybody that tries to take notice of me you'll have your work cut out," said Miss Jelks, in tones of melancholy resignation, "and I'm sure it's not because I give them any encouragement. And as for the number that ask me to walk out with them—well, there!"