"Come along," said Captain Gibbs, taking her arm with much affection.
"But what's Ted looking like that for?" demanded his wife, as she easily intercepted another choice facial expression of the mate's.
"Oh, it's his fun," replied her husband, walking on.
"Fun?" repeated Mrs. Gibbs, sharply. "What's the matter, Ted."
"Nothing," replied the mate.
"Touch o' toothache," said the skipper. "Come along, Loo; I can just do with one o' your breakfasts."
Mrs. Gibbs suffered herself to be led on, and had got at least five yards on the way home, when she turned and looked back. The mate had still got the toothache, and was at that moment in all the agonies of a phenomenal twinge.
"There's something wrong here," said Mrs. Gibbs as she retraced her steps. "Ted, what are you making that face for?"
"It's my own face," said the mate, evasively.
Mrs. Gibbs conceded the point, and added bitterly that it couldn't be helped. All the same she wanted to know what he meant by it.