It struck me that her gammon was reasonable enough, and I agreed to pull out for Berande right O, and get your orders to go along to Poonga-Poonga.

But she said there wasn't a second to be lost by any such foolishness, and that I was to sail direct for Poonga-Poonga, and that if I couldn't take her word that she was your partner, she'd get along without me and the _Flibberty_.

And right there's where she fooled me.
"Down in the _Emily's_ cabin was them three soaks--you know them--Fowler and Curtis and that Brahms chap.

'Have a drink,' says she.

I thought they looked surprised when she unlocked the whisky locker and sent a nigger for the glasses and water-monkey.