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'I picked that out for you specially yesterday,' she announced proudly. 'I walked over to butcher's while you were on the ship.'

Hornblower steeled himself not to wince at hearing a naval officer's wife speak about being 'on' a ship; he also had to steel himself to having steak for breakfast, when steak was by no means his favourite dish, and when he was so excited that he felt he could eat nothing. And dimly he could foresee a future--if ever he returned, if ever, inconceivably, he settled down in domestic life--when steak would be put before him on any special occasion. That thought was the last straw; he felt he could not eat a mouthful, and yet he could not hurt Maria's feelings.

'Where's yours?' he asked, temporising.

'Oh, I shan't be having any steak,' replied Maria. The tone of her voice proved that it was quite inconceivable to her that a wife should eat equally well as her husband. Hornblower raised his voice and turned his head.

'Hey, there!' he called. 'In the kitchen! Bring another plate--a hot one.'