‘Stephen, Stephen, Stephen!’ Jack’s voice came along the corridor, growing louder and ending in a roar as he thrust his head into the room. ‘Oh, there you are. I was afraid you had gone off to your stoats again. The carrier has brought you an ape.’
‘What sort of an ape?’ asked Stephen.
‘A damned ill-conditioned sort of an ape. It had a can of ape at every pot-house on the road, and it is reeling drunk. It had been offering itself to Babbington.’
Post Captain – Patrick O’Brian
