As it was, he lay idly
listening to her words of direction to the maid; but as she spoke
in French, he was undecided whether she was telling her companion
that bad weather was imminent, or that the laundry needed
counting--his mind, it seemed, ran to laundry.
Then the purser appeared. "Did you send for me?" he inquired.
"Yes. There was a strange man around just now, and he wanted a
dollar for this chair."
"Well?"
"I want to establish a line of credit."
The purser grunted.
"And say!" Kirk ran on, seriously. "I've been all over your little
ship, but the passengers are boys' size. I can't wear this collar
any longer."
"And I can't find any baggage of yours."
"Then there isn't any. I never really expected there was. Come
now, be a good fellow. This is my 'case shirt."
"If you really wish some clothes, I'll see what I can find among
the stewards."
"No, no," Kirk hastily interposed, "I can't wear a shirt with soup
stains on it. Let me have one of yours--we're twin brothers."
"I have no more than I need," said the purser, coldly. He opened a
cigarette case, at which Anthony gazed longingly. It seemed ages
since he had had a smoke; but the other seemed disinclined for
small courtesies.
"I've seen the captain about that ticket matter," he went on, "and
he says you must buy another.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70