"
"Awfully sorry! Stupid of me! Get your mind off it again--quick! What
were you saying? Oh, yes, this girl. I always think it helps one to
form a mental picture of people if one knows something about their
tastes--what sort of things they are interested in, their favourite
topics of conversation, and so on. This Miss Bennett now, what did she
like talking about?"
"Oh, all sorts of things."
"Yes, but what?"
"Well, for one thing she was very fond of poetry. It was that which
first drew us together."
"Poetry!" Sam's heart sank a little. He had read a certain amount of
poetry at school, and once he had won a prize of three shillings and
sixpence for the last line of a limerick in a competition in a weekly
paper, but he was self-critic enough to know that poetry was not his
long suit. Still there was a library on board ship and no doubt it
would be possible to borrow the works of some standard poet and bone
them up from time to time.
"Any special poet?"
"Well, she seemed to like my stuff.
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