I had risen and was standing by her. I read out the figures as I now saw them.
“1 71 22.”
“You see,” said Suzanne, “it’s the same, but not quite. It’s one o’clock still, and the 22nd—but it’s Cabin 71! My cabin, Anne!”
We stood staring at each other, so pleased with our new discovery and so rapt with excitement that you might have thought we had solved the whole mystery. Then I fell to earth with a bump.
“But, Suzanne, nothing happened here at one o’clock on the 22nd?”
Her face fell also. “No—it didn’t.”
Another idea struck me.
“This isn’t your own cabin, is it, Suzanne? I mean not the one you originally booked?”
“No, the purser changed me into it.”
“I wonder if it was booked before sailing for some one—some one who didn’t turn up. I suppose we could find out.”