“But you haven’t been there?” said his wife anxiously.
“Never!” said the engineer with extraordinary vehemence.
“That wicked bird said that you got intoxicated there,” said Mrs. Gannett in solemn accents, “that you smashed a little marble-topped table and knocked down two waiters, and that if it hadn’t been for the captain of the Pursuit, who was in there and who got you away, you’d have been locked up. Wasn’t it a wicked bird?”
“Horrible!” said the engineer huskily.
“I don’t suppose there ever was a ship called the Pursuit,” continued Mrs. Gannett.
“Doesn’t sound like a ship’s name,” murmured Mr. Gannett.
“Well, then, a few days later it said the Curlew was at Naples.”
“I never went ashore all the time we were at Naples,” remarked the engineer casually.
“The parrot said you did,” said Mrs. Gannett.
“I suppose you’ll believe your own lawful husband before that damned bird?” shouted Gannett, starting up.