ho has cheek enough for six:
'Miss Emily, I love you. Will you marry? Say the word!'
And Emily said: 'Certainly, Alphonso, like a bird!'"

Sam Marlowe was a warm supporter of the Alphonso method. He was a bright
young man and did not require a year to make up his mind that Wilhelmina
Bennett had been set apart by Fate from the beginning of time to be his
bride. He had known it from the moment he saw her on the dock, and all
the subsequent strolling, reading, talking, soup-drinking, tea-drinking,
and shuffle-board-playing which they had done together had merely
solidified his original impression. He loved this girl with all the
force of a fiery nature--the fiery nature of the Marlowes was a by-word
in Bruton Street, Berkeley Square--and something seemed to whisper that
she loved him. At any rate she wanted somebody like Sir Galahad, and,
without wishing to hurl bouquets at himself, he could not see where she
could possibly get anyone liker Sir Galahad than himself. So, wind and
weather permitting, Samuel Marlowe intended to propose to Wilhelmina
Bennett this very day.

He let down the trick basin which hung beneath the mirror and,
collecting his shaving materials, began to lather his face.

"I am the Bandolero!" sang Sam blithely through the soap. "I am, I am
the Bandolero! Yes, yes, I am the Bandolero!"

The untidy heap of bedclothes in the lower berth stirred restlessly.

"Oh, God!" said Eustace Hignett thrusting out a tousled head.

Sam regarded his cousin with commiseration. Horrid things had been
happening to Eustace during the last few days, and it was quite a
pleasant surprise each morning to find that he was still alive.

"Feeling bad again, old man?"

"I was feeling all right," replied Hignett churlishly, "until you began
the farmyard imitations. What sort of a day is it?"

"Glorious! The sea...."

"Don't talk about the sea!"

"Sorry! The sun is shining brighter than it has ever shone in the
history of the race. Why don't you get up?"

"Nothing will induce me to get up."

"Well, go a regular buster and have an egg for breakfast."

Eustace Hignett shuddered. He eyed Sam sourly. "You seem devilish
pleased with yourself this morning!" he said censoriously.

Sam dried the razor carefully and put it away. He hesitated. Then the
desire to confide in somebody got the better of him.

"The fact is," he said apologetically, "I'm in love!"

"In love!" Eustace Hignett sat up and bumped his he