Over it goes, an' if you ain't dam careful, over you go after it!" Watts could have wept without the artificial stimulus of the rum.

To see good liquor slung into the sea in that fashion--well, it was a sin, that's wot it was! But Coke's furious eye quelled him; and revel and song ceased.
Above, on the bridge, Hozier smiled sourly at the squall which had so suddenly beset the fair argosy of the convivial-minded Watts.

He tried to invest the incident with an excess of humor.

Any excuse would serve to still certain disquieting doubts that were springing into alarming activity.

Had he gone the best way to work in allaying Iris's conscience-stricken qualms?
Was he justified in adopting such a bold line with De Sylva?
Could it be possible--no, he refused to harbor any mean thought of Iris.