"Good-by, mamma darling. Don't cry so, I tell you! Let me go, please,
mamma, please! Good-by, papa darling, take good care of yourself
and--I--just love you, papa! Ray, have a grand time and don't miss none
of it. That's right, kiss Irving; he's your brother-in-law now. Don't
cry, mamma darling! Good-by! Good-by!"

A tangle of adieus, more handkerchiefing, more tears and laughter, more
ear-splitting shrieks of steam and a black plume of smoke that rose in
a billow, and hand in hand Miriam and Irving Shapiro joggling down the
gang-plank to the pier.

From the bow of the top deck the ship's orchestra let out a blare of
music designed to cover tears and heartaches. The gang-plank drew up and
in like a tongue, separating land from sea. From every deck faces were
peering down into the crowd below.

Miriam grasped her husband's coat-sleeve, in her frenzy taking a fine
pinch of flesh with it. Tears rained down her cheeks.

"There they are, Irving, all three of 'em on the second deck, waving
down at us! Good-by, mamma, papa, Ray! Oh, Irving, I just can't stand to
see 'em go! Papa, Ray, mamma darling!"

"Now, now, Miriam, think what a grand time they're going to have and how
soon they're going to be home again."

"Oh, my darlings!"

Mrs. Binswanger sopped at her eyes, waving betimes the small black cap
rescued in the up-deck rush.