"Awfully sorry, of course, and all that," said Sam.

"Don't apologise to me!" said Eustace. "My poor old chap, my only
feeling towards you is one of the purest and profoundest pity." He
reached out and pressed Sam's hand. "I regard you as a toad beneath the
harrow!"

"Well, I suppose that's one way of offering congratulations and cheery
good wishes."

"And on top of that," went on Eustace, deeply moved. "You have got to
sing at the ship's concert."

"Why shouldn't I sing at the ship's concert?"

"My dear old man, you have many worthy qualities, but you must know
that you can't sing. You can't sing for nuts! I don't want to
discourage you, but, long ago as it is, you can't have forgotten what
an ass you made of yourself at that house-supper at school. Seeing
you up against it like this, I regret that I threw a lump of butter at
you on that occasion, though at the time it seemed the only course to
pursue."

Sam started.

"Was it you who threw that bit of butter?"

"It was."