“And just think! As Bream was saying....” 

 “It is all right,” said Mr. Mortimer, reappearing suddenly. “I saw a couple of the stewards and they both said it was all right. So it’s all right.” 

 “Splendid,” said the girl. “Oh, Bream!” 

 “Hello?” 

 “Do be an angel and run along to my state-room and see if Pinky-Boodles is quite comfortable.” 

 “Bound to be.” 

 “Yes. But do go. He may be feeling lonely. Chirrup to him a little.” 

 “Chirrup?” 

 “Yes, to cheer him up.” 

 “Oh, all right.” 

 “Run along!” 

 Mr. Mortimer ran along. He had the air of one who feels that he only needs a peaked cap and a uniform two sizes too small for him to be a properly equipped messenger boy. 

 “And, as Bream was saying,” resumed the girl, “you might have been left behind.” 

 “That,” said Sam, edging a step closer, “was the thought that tortured me, the thought that a friendship so delightfully begun....” 

 “But it hadn’t begun. We have never spoken to each other before now.” 

 “Have you forgotten? On the dock....” 

 Sudden enlightenment came into her eyes. 

 “Oh, you are the man poor Pinky-Boodles bit!” 

 “The lucky man!” 

 Her face clouded. 

 Prev. P 30/190 next