This friend had the time to condole with him but briefly. He
must be moving. Then as he was running off, over his shoulder as it
were, he suggested: "Why don't you go and speak to Mr. Powell in the
Shipping Office." Our friend objected that he did not know Mr. Powell
from Adam. And the other already pretty near round the corner shouted
back advice: "Go to the private door of the Shipping Office and walk
right up to him. His desk is by the window. Go up boldly and say I sent
you."
Our new acquaintance looking from one to the other of us declared: "Upon
my word, I had grown so desperate that I'd have gone boldly up to the
devil himself on the mere hint that he had a second mate's job to give
away."
It was at this point that interrupting his flow of talk to light his pipe
but holding us with his eye he inquired whether we had known Powell.
Marlow with a slight reminiscent smile murmured that he "remembered him
very well."
Then there was a pause. Our new acquaintance had become involved in a
vexatious difficulty with his pipe which had suddenly betrayed his trust
and disappointed his anticipation of self-indulgence.
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