Whisky and beer were not quite so repulsive.

But the Queen of the Oyster Pirates was looking at me, a part-emptied glass in her own hand.

I had my pride.

If I was only fifteen, at least I could not show myself any less a man than she.

Besides, there were her sister, and Mrs.Hadley, and the young oyster pirate, and the whiskered wharf-rat, all with glasses in their hands.