ship's barbers and smelled too fragrantly of the contact; he was sleeked and powdered and polished; the broad nails upon his slightly tremulous fingers, as he broke a piece of bread, glanced and twinkled like little mirrors.
"Yes, sir," he said. "Couldn't ask for better weather than we're getting now. Seems funny to think of everything back home all covered with ice and snow. You're from somewheres East, I expect."
"Yes," Ogle said.
"Boston, I expect?"
"New York."
"Well, New York's a big place these days," Tinker remarked tolerantly. "My wife and daughter here, though, they like it better than I do. We come from a pretty good-sized town ourselves, and while the population isn't quite as big as New York's yet, it's certainly got every advantage you can find in New York and some ways more. What'd you say your name was?"
"Ogle."
"Glad to meet you; glad to meet you," Tinker said as heartily as his hoarseness permitted. "Mine's Tinker, and this is my wife, Mrs. Tinker, Mr. Ogle. My daughter, Libby, Mr. Ogle."
