pleasantries were not to his taste.

"No, of course not," said the captain, resuming his seat. "Well, I'm
sorry if it's serious, Jem, but I never dreamt you had any ideas in that
quarter. If I had I'd have given old Nugent the best bunk on the ship
and sung him to sleep myself. Has she given you any encouragement?"

"Don't know," said Jem, who found the conversation awkward.

"Extraordinary thing," said the captain, shaking his head,
"extraordinary. Like a play."

"Play?" said his son, sharply.

"Play," repeated his father, firmly. "What is the name of it? I saw it
once at Newcastle. The lovers take poison and die across each other's
chests because their people won't let 'em marry. And that reminds me.
I saw some phosphor-paste in the kitchen, Jem. Whose is it?"

"I'm glad to be the means of affording you amusement," said Jem, grinding
his teeth.

Captain Hardy regarded him affectionately. "Go easy, my lad," he said,
equably; "go easy. If I'd known it before, things would have been
different; as I didn't, we must make the best of it. She's a pretty
girl, and a good one, too, for all her airs, but I'm afraid she's too
fond of her father to overlook this."

"That's where you've made such a mess of things," broke in his son.
"Why on earth you two old men couldn't--"