“Because,” said Kate, looking down—“oh, because—well, it’s ridiculous. I’d sooner have you stay here and feel what a stupid you’ve been making of yourself. I want to remind you of it sometimes.”
“I don’t want reminding,” said Tarrell, taking Raggett’s chair; “I know it now.”
A RASH EXPERIMENT
The hands on the wharf had been working all Saturday night and well into the Sunday morning to finish the Foam, and now, at ten o’clock, with hatches down and freshly-scrubbed decks, the skipper and mate stood watching the tide as it rose slowly over the smooth Thames mud.
“What time’s she coming?” inquired the skipper, turning a lazy eye up at the wharf.
“About ha’-past ten she said,” replied the mate. “It’s very good o’ you to turn out and let her have your state-room.”
“Don’t say another word about that,” said the skipper impressively. “I’ve met your wife once or twice, George, an’ I must say that a nicer spoken woman, an’ a more well-be’aved one, I’ve seldom seen.”
“Same to you,” said the mate; “your wife I mean.”
“Any man,” continued the skipper, “as would lay in a comfortable state-room, George, and leave a lady a-trying to turn and to dress and ondress herself in a poky little locker, ought to be ashamed of himself.”
“You see, it’s the luggage they bring,” said the mate, slowly refilling his pipe. “What they want with it all I can’t think. As soon as my old woman makes up her mind to come for a trip, tomorrow being Bank Holiday, an’ she being in the mind for a outing, what does she do?’ Goes down Commercial Road and buys a bonnet far beyond her station.”