after day.
Nag, nag, nag. Mr. Spokesly went back to his cabin and found Archy Bates
sitting on the settee.

Archy was in that mood which follows heavy drinking by the initiated.
Archy was always ready for each mood as it came and made the most of it.
With a confidence that resembled to an extraordinary degree the faith of
an inspired fanatic, he gave himself over to the service of the god for
the time being. Coming back from ashore he had fallen out of the boat
into the water and then fallen off the gangway into the boat again; yet
his faith in his star never faltered. When the boat drifted from the
grating he had assumed a stern expression, and raising his arms
proceeded to walk across the water. When Archy was in that benign mood
incidental to his return from a souse, there was nothing in the world to
prevent him walking on water or ascending into the air, should he deem
it a dignified thing to do. There was something rather awful, to one who
believed in the laws of nature, in the inebriated accuracy of Archy's
movements along intricate alleyways, through doors and up ladders.
Through it all he held in reserve the fixed cat-grin which implied a
bemused omniscience, a dreadful knowledge of secret human standards.

But that mood was gone and he sat here on Mr. Spokesly's settee, smoking
a cigarette, completely normal and master of himself. It was a grotesque
feature of his convalescence, this austere assumption of efficiency. He
was very much upset at the way the second steward had made a mess of
things that afternoon. Just as soon as he took his eye off him, things
went wrong. It was most discouraging. And he would like to recommend him
for promotion, too. By the way, had Mr. Spokesly heard the company was
going to buy some ships? This was an example of the way Archy "heard" of
things. No one could tell how he got hold of the most secret information
while stewed. Mr. Spokesly was not alert. He made no comment, not
realizing how nearly that stray remark might touch him.

It was a fac', Archy hiccoughed. Going to buy a lot of ships. So he'd
heard. He paused, trying to recapture the thought. Yes, now no sooner
does the Old Man order supper than the silly josser loses his head.
Ring, ring, ring, the Old Man did. Now that he had recaptured it the
thought seemed less important than he had imagined. Mr. Spokesly, his
friend, with whom he was going to do some nice little business, didn't
seem in very good spirits. Archy ben