"I couldn't. I'm a strange girl...."

"You're a darned silly girl...."

"I don't see what right you have to say that," she flared.

"I don't see what right you have to say you can't marry me and try to
load me up with golliwogs," he retorted with equal heat.

"Oh, can't you understand?"

"No, I'm dashed if I can."

She looked at him despondently.

"When I said I would marry you, you were a hero to me. You stood to me
for everything that was noble and brave and wonderful. I had only to
shut my eyes to conjure up the picture of you as you dived off the rail
that morning. Now"--her voice trembled--"if I shut my eyes now,--I can
only see a man with a hideous black face making himself the laughing
stock of the ship. How can I marry you, haunted by that picture?"

"But, good heavens, you talk as if I made a habit of blacking up! You
talk as if you expected me to come to the altar smothered in burnt cork."

"I shall always think of you as I saw you to-night."

She looked at him sadly, "There's a bit of black still on your left
ear."