Martin had been limping all day long, though he'd valiantly tried to hide it. The sad truth was that he ought to replace his old boots, and yet he couldn't afford to buy new ones; not if he wanted to be able to pay the rent anyway.
Since he was sharing a room with Douglas, he fully expected to be teased about his far from commanding stride; however, his first officer merely hinted at the fact that he had some business to attend, and that the captain had better not to wait for him awake.
A woman, most likely, Martin decided as he tucked himself into bed and began to drift off to sleep. When he woke up in the morning he rubbed his eyes repeatedly, until he had to acknowledge that the shiny new boots under his bed weren't just a figment of his imagination.
They fitted him perfectly too, he realised with a sigh of contentment, and he smiled fondly at the ridiculous man that was still fast asleep in the other bed.