dinner to our cabin and having a dose of blackberry cordial to prevent seasickness.
"I've had it before," he said on one occasion, "but never with such—er—medicinal qualities. You don't put anything in it but blackberries, do you?"
"Only a little alcohol to preserve it," I told him with some pride. I generally make it myself.
"I will say this for it: It's extremely well preserved," he said, and filled up the tooth mug again. It was after that that he told us that Hilda had refused to marry him, and was flirting outrageously with Captain Weber.
"I only say this," he added gloomily: "He's right when he says he belongs in the infantry. He's got the photographs of five youngsters in his cabin; or he did have. He's probably hidden them now."
"Why don't you tell her?" Tish demanded.
"Why should I? Let her make a fool of herself if she wants to," he said despondently. "What chance have I against a shipload of 'em, anyhow? If it wasn't this one it would be another. She's got her eye on a tank now, and she's only waiting for that aviator to forget his stomach to sit at his feet and worship. God only
