“Oh!” said the girl, “may I—Mr.—?”
“Marlowe.”
“Mr. Marlowe. Mr. Bream Mortimer.”
Sam smirked at the young man. The young man smirked at Sam.
“Nearly got left behind,” said Bream Mortimer.
“Yes, nearly.”
“No joke getting left behind.”
“No.”
“Have to take the next boat. Lose a lot of time,” said Mr. Mortimer, driving home his point.
The girl had listened to these intellectual exchanges with impatience. She now spoke again.
“Oh, Bream!”
“Hello?”
“Do be a dear and run down to the saloon and see if it’s all right about our places for lunch.”
“It is all right. The table steward said so.”
“Yes, but go and make certain.”
“All right.”
He hopped away and the girl turned to Sam with shining eyes.
“Oh, Mr. Marlowe, you oughtn’t to have done it! Really, you oughtn’t! You might have been drowned! But I never saw anything so wonderful. It was like the stories of knights who used to jump into lions’ dens after gloves!”
“Yes?” said Sam, a little vaguely. The resemblance had not struck him. It seemed a silly hobby and rough on the lions, too.
“It was the sort of thing Sir Lancelot or Sir Galahad would have done! But you shouldn’t have bothered, really! It’s all right now.”
“Oh, it’s all right now?”
“Yes. I’d quite forgotten that Mr. Mortimer was to be on board. He has given me all the money I shall need. You see it was this way. I had to sail on this boat in rather a hurry. Father’s head clerk was to have gone to the bank and got some money and met me on board and given it to me, but the silly old man was late, and when he got to the dock they had just pulled in the gang-plank. So he tried to throw the money to me in a handkerchief and it fell into the water. But you shouldn’t have dived in after it.”
“Oh, well!” said Sam, straightening his tie, with a quiet brave smile. He had never expected to feel grateful to that obese bounder who had shoved him off the rail, but now he would have liked to seek him out and offer him his bank-roll.
“You really are the bravest man I ever met!”
“Oh, no!”
“How modest you are! But I suppose all brave men are modest!”
“I was only too delighted at what looked like a chance of doing you a service.”
“It was the extraordinary quickness of it that was so wonderful. I do admire presence of mind. You didn’t hesitate for a second. You just shot over the side as though propelled by some irresistible force!”
“It was nothing, nothing really. One just happens to have the knack of keeping one’s head and acting quickly on the spur of the moment. Some people have it, some haven’t.”
“And just think! As Bream was saying….”
“It
“Splendid,” said the girl. “Oh, Bream!”
“Hello?”
“Do be an angel and run along to my stateroom and see if Pinky-Boodles is quite comfortable,”
“Bound to be.”
“Yes. But do go. He may be feeling lonely. Chirrup to him a little.”
“Chirrup?”
“Yes, to cheer him up.”
“Oh, all right.”
“Run along!”
Mr. Mortimer ran along. He had the air of one who feels that he only needs a peaked cap and a uniform two sizes too small for him to be a properly equipped messenger boy.
“And, as Bream was saying,” resumed the girl, “you might have been left behind.”
“That,” said Sam, edging a step closer, “was the thought that tortured me, the thought that a friendship so
