"No!" said the Greuse.

"Stupid mistake at the booking-office," replied the Titian. "Come up
on deck. They are putting off."

"Just a moment. Put the small luggage, Mr. . . ."

"Webb."

"Mr. Webb. Put the small luggage on the lounge. Never mind the
straps. That is all."

"Yes, miss."

The two young women hurried off. Thomas stared after them, his brows
bent in a mixture of perplexity, dazzlement and diffidence.

"A very good-looking steward."

"Kitty, you little wretch!"

"Why, he _is_ good-looking."

"Princes, dukes, waiters, cabbies, stewards; all you do is look at
them, and they become slaves. You've more mischief in you than a dozen
kittens."

"I have met cabbies whom I much prefer to certain dukes."

"But I've a young man picked out for you. He's an artist."