He was repaid by the glow of content which showed in the captain's face.
"And the hole of the _Heron_," he said, speaking softly lest his voice should carry to the man in the wheelhouse, "is it cooler than the fireroom of the _Mary Rogers ?_" Harrigan glanced up, glowering.
"Damn you, McTee!" "The palms of your hands, lad, are they raw?
Is the lye of the suds cool to them ?" Another black glance came in reply and McTee leaned back against the rail, tapping one contented toe against the floor.
"It was a fine tale you told me yesterday, Harrigan," he said at length, "but afterward I saw Kate, and she was never kinder.

I spoke of you, and we laughed together about it.

She said you were like a horse that's too proud--you need the whip!" Harrigan was in doubt, but he concealed his trouble with a mighty effort and smiled.
"That's a weak lie, Angus.

When I was a boy of ten, I would of hung me head for shame if I could not have made a better lie.

Shall I tell you what really happened when you met Kate?
You came up smilin' an' grinnin' like a baboon, an' she passed you by with a look that went through you as if you were just a cloud on the edge of the sky.