"Miss Guile" and "Mrs. Gaston"
were the names he read.
"Americans," he mused. "Young lady and chaperone, that's it. A real
American beauty! And Blithers loudly boasts that his daughter is the
prettiest girl in America! Shades of Venus! Can there be such a thing
on earth as a prettier girl than this one? Can nature have performed
the impossible? Is America so full of lovely girls that this one must
take second place to a daughter of Blithers? I wonder if she knows
the imperial Maud. I'll make it a point to inquire."
Moved by a sudden restlessness, he decided that he was in need of
exercise. A walk would do him good. The same spirit of restlessness,
no doubt, urged him to walk rather rapidly in the direction opposite
to that taken by the lovely Miss Guile. After completely circling the
deck once he decided that he did not need the exercise after all. His
walk had not benefitted him in the least. She _had_ gone to her room.
He returned to his chair, conscious of having been defeated but
without really knowing why or how. As he turned into the dry, snug
corner, he came to an abrupt stop and stared.
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