“The sensible thing would be to do—nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Why?”
“You might start something you couldn't finish.”
“That's a dare,” Webster declared brightly, “and wasn't it the immortal Huckleberry Finn who remarked that anybody that'd take a dare would suck eggs and steal sheep?” He caressed his beard meditatively. “They say the good Lord made man to His own image and likeness. I take it those were only the specifications for the building complete—the painting and interior decorating, not to mention the furnishings, being let to a sub-contractor.” He was silent a few seconds, appraising his man. “I suppose you commenced operations by moving into her section and asking if she would like to have the window open and enjoy the fresh air. Of course if she had wanted the window open, she would have called the porter. She rebuffed you, but being a persistent devil, you followed her into the observation-car, and in all probability you ogled her at luncheon and ruined her appetite. And just now, when you met her in this vestibule, you doubtless jostled her, begged her pardon and without waiting to be introduced asked her to have dinner with you this evening.”
“Well?” the fellow echoed belligerently.
“It's all bad form. You shouldn't try to make a mash on a lady. I don't know who she is, of course, but she's not common; she's travelling without a chaperon, I take it, and for the sake of the mother that bore me I always respect and protect a good woman and whale hell out of those that do not.”
He reached inside his stateroom and pressed the bell. The porter arrived on the run.
“George,” said Mr. Webster, “in a few minutes we're due at Smithville. If my memory serves me aright, we stop five minutes for water and orders.”
“Yassah.”
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