The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University
The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University
The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University
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as utterly heartless. Marlowe regarded her behaviour<br />
as thoroughly sensible. She had made a mistake, and,<br />
realising this at <strong>the</strong> eleventh hour, she had had <strong>the</strong> force<br />
of character to correct it. He was sorry for poor old<br />
Eustace, but he really could not permit <strong>the</strong> suggesti<strong>on</strong><br />
that Wilhelmina Bennett—her friends called her Billie—<br />
had not behaved in a perfectly splendid way throughout.<br />
It was women like Wilhelmina Bennett—Billie to<br />
her intimates—who made <strong>the</strong> world worth living in.<br />
Her friends called her Billie. He did not blame <strong>the</strong>m.<br />
It was a delightful name and suited her to perfecti<strong>on</strong>.<br />
He practised it a few times. “Billie … Billie … Billie<br />
….” It certainly ran pleasantly off <strong>the</strong> t<strong>on</strong>gue. “Billie<br />
Bennett.” Very musical. “Billie Marlowe.” Still better.<br />
“We noticed am<strong>on</strong>g those present <strong>the</strong> charming and<br />
popular Mrs. ‘Billie’ Marlowe ….”<br />
A c<strong>on</strong>suming desire came over him to talk about <strong>the</strong><br />
girl to some<strong>on</strong>e. Obviously indicated as <strong>the</strong> party of <strong>the</strong><br />
sec<strong>on</strong>d part was Eustace Hignett. If Eustace was still<br />
capable of speech—and after all <strong>the</strong> boat was hardly rolling<br />
at all—he would enjoy a fur<strong>the</strong>r chat about his ru-<br />
P. G. Wodehouse<br />
37<br />
ined life. Besides, he had ano<strong>the</strong>r reas<strong>on</strong> for seeking<br />
Eustace’s society. As a man who had been actually engaged<br />
to marry this supreme girl, Eustace Hignett had<br />
an attracti<strong>on</strong> for Sam akin to that of some great public<br />
m<strong>on</strong>ument. He had become a sort of shrine. He had<br />
taken <strong>on</strong> a glamour. Sam entered <strong>the</strong> state-room almost<br />
reverentially, with something of <strong>the</strong> emoti<strong>on</strong>s of a boy<br />
going into his first dime museum.<br />
<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> exhibit was lying <strong>on</strong> his back, staring at <strong>the</strong> roof<br />
of <strong>the</strong> berth. By lying absolutely still and forcing himself<br />
to think of purely inland scenes and objects, he<br />
had c<strong>on</strong>trived to reduce <strong>the</strong> green in his complexi<strong>on</strong><br />
to a mere tinge. But it would be paltering with <strong>the</strong> truth<br />
to say that he felt deb<strong>on</strong>air. He received Sam with a<br />
wan austerity.<br />
“Sit down!” he said. “D<strong>on</strong>’t stand <strong>the</strong>re swaying like<br />
that. I can’t bear it.”<br />
“Why, we aren’t out of <strong>the</strong> harbour yet. Surely you<br />
aren’t going to be sea-sick already.”<br />
“I can issue no positive guarantee. Perhaps if I can<br />
keep my mind off it …. I have had good results for <strong>the</strong>