"Well, that was the idea, I'm sure. Of course, I could never look at
Bream now."

"I hate looking at him myself," said Sam feelingly.

A group of afflicted persons, bent upon playing with long sticks and
bits of wood, now invaded the upper deck. Their weak-minded cries
filled the air. Sam and the girl rose.

"Touching on your father once more," he said as they made their way
below, "is he a very formidable sort of man?"

"He can be a dear. But he's rather quick-tempered. You must be very
ingratiating."

"I will practise it in front of the glass every morning for the rest of
the voyage," said Sam.

He went down to the stateroom in a mixed mood of elation and
apprehension. He was engaged to the most wonderful girl in the world,
but over the horizon loomed the menacing figure of Father. He wished he
could induce Billie to allow him to waive the formality of thawing
Father. Eustace Hignett had apparently been able to do so. But that
experience had presumably engendered a certain caution in her. The
Hignett fiasco had spoiled her for runaway marriages. Well, if it had
to be done, it must be done, and that was all there was to it.