"I reckon I had no more than a two-mile pull to your ship. Not a
bit more."

"And quite enough, too, in this awful heat," I said.

Another pause full of mistrust followed. Necessity, they say, is
mother of invention, but fear, too, is not barren of ingenious
suggestions. And I was afraid he would ask me point-blank for news
of my other self.

"Nice little saloon, isn't it?" I remarked, as if noticing for the
first time the way his eyes roamed from one closed door to the
other. "And very well fitted out too. Here, for instance," I
continued, reaching over the back of my seat negligently and
flinging the door open, "is my bath-room."

He made an eager movement, but hardly gave it a glance. I got up,
shut the door of the bath-room, and invited him to have a look
round, as if I were very proud of my accommodation. He had to rise
and be shown round, but he went through the business without any
raptures whatever.

"And now we'll have a look at my stateroom," I declared, in a voice
as loud as I dared to make it, crossing the cabin to the starboard
side with purposely heavy steps.

He followed me in and gazed around. My intelligent double had
vanished. I played my part.

"Very convenient--isn't it?"