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"May I have a word with you, sir?" he exclaimed in a coarse, hoarse, broken voice. "On the freight?" "Mr Lawrence has a beautiful voice," said[Pg 78] Lucy. "How touchingly he sang 'Tom Bowling'!".
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Conrad
"But you were never at sea. You'll be sick in your hammock, and I shall be wanting some one to wait upon me." "I can assure you, papa," answered Lucy, "that Mr Eagle is a very silly, sour man, in whose rheumatism I shall no longer take any interest. He thought I was mad, and was as much afraid of me as he was of Mr Lawrence, and was careful to avoid me. As I just now said, if I was to be mad to Mr Lawrence, I must be mad to the others, and fully believing that I was mad, the crew would naturally think that the most humane course Mr Lawrence could adopt was to send me home by any ship that would receive me." He was a figure striking in its way as he made these bows, with his long, snow-white hair, his heavy white eyebrows, his long curling nose, the purely congenital satiric leer that characterised the formation of his thin lips; and his faded dress, which was a very good representation of his mind, aided the impression produced by his face. "I wish he'd shut up," he murmured to himself, "but I'm scared to make him, fer fear he'll get sulky an' quit cold on the job.".
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