I will meet you at the top of the stairway in
five minutes.'
'You are getting on,' said Kenyon, as the young woman disappeared.
'What's the use of being on board ship,' said Wentworth, 'If you don't
take advantage of the opportunity for making shipboard acquaintances?
There is an unconventionality about life on a steamer that is not without
its charm, as perhaps you will find out before the voyage is over, John.'
'You are merely trying to ease your conscience because of your heartless
desertion of me.'
George Wentworth had waited at the top of the companion-way a little more
than five minutes when Miss Brewster appeared, wrapped in a cloak edged
with fur, which lent an additional charm to her complexion, set off as it
was by a jaunty steamer cap. They stepped out on the deck, and found it
not at all so dark as they had expected. Little globes of electric light
were placed at regular intervals on the walls of the deck building.
Overhead was stretched a sort of canvas roof, against which the sleety
rain pattered. One of the sailors, with a rubber mop, was pushing into
the gutter by the side of the ship the moisture from the deck. All around
the boat the night was as black as ink, except here and there where the
white curl of a wave showed luminous for a moment in the darkness.
Miss Brewster insisted that Wentworth should light his cigar, which,
after some persuasion, he did. Then he tucked her hand snugly under his
arm, and she adjusted her step to suit his.
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