"Well, you see, it's--this way: I--I don't care to be--overheard. I
don't want anybody to--to think I'm prying into their--private business.
You understand?"
"I can't say that I do."
"Perhaps I can make myself--er--clearer."
"Perhaps you can."
"My name is--er--Slush--Peddington Slush."
"Holy cats! what a name!" muttered Browning, while Rattleton grinned
despite his sickness.
"I--I'm taking a sea voyage--for--for my health," explained Mr. Slush.
"That's why I didn't go over on a--a regular liner. This way I shall be
longer at--at sea. See?"
"And you are keeping us at sea by your lingering way in coming to a
point," smiled Merry.
"Eh?" said the little man. Then he seemed to comprehend, and he broke
into a sudden cackle of laughter, which he shut off with startling
suddenness, looking frightened.
"Beg your pardon!" he exclaimed. "Quite--ah--rude of me. I don't do
it--often."
"You look as if it wouldn't hurt you to do it oftener," said Merry,
frankly. "Laughter never hurt anyone."
"I--I can't quite agree with--you, sir. I beg your pardon! No offense!
I--I don't wish to be offensive--you understand. I once knew a man who
died from--er--laughing. It is a fact, sir. He laughed so long--and so
hard---that he--he lost his breath--entirely. Never got it back again.
Since then I've been very--cautious.
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