feminine charms, and was striding along the deck with the breeze
playing in her vivid hair like the female equivalent of a Viking.
Beside her walked young Mr. Bream Mortimer.

Sam had been feeling a good deal of a fellow already, but at the sight
of her welcoming smile his self-esteem almost caused him to explode.
What magic there is in a girl's smile! It is the raisin which, dropped
in the yeast of male complacency, induces fermentation.

"Oh, there you are, Mr. Marlowe!"

"Oh, _there_ you are," said Bream Mortimer, with a slightly
different inflection.

"I thought I'd like a breath of fresh air before lunch," said Sam.

"Oh, Bream!" said the girl.

"Hello?"

"Do be a darling and take this great heavy coat of mine down to my
state-room will you? I had no idea it was so warm."

"I'll carry it," said Bream.

"Nonsense. I wouldn't dream of burdening you with it. Trot along and
put it on the berth. It doesn't matter about folding it up."

"All right," said Bream moodily.