"It's always the same. It's the dark uns are the deep uns."
"Don't you dare to chip her then," warned the other. "She's Madame's own ducky-darlin-doodle-day."
Ernie opened the door.
The two girls turned in a scared flutter.
"There!—It's only old Ernie Boots!" cried Céleste relieved. "He don't count, Ernie don't.—But you give me the palpitations though."
Ernie held the door wide.
"You've no business in here," he said sternly.
"No one has—only the Captain, old cock," retorted Céleste flippantly.
The two girls flirted away with high noses and a rustle of silken underwear.
Ernie looked round the little room with the eyes of a furtive watch-dog. He had no business there; and being there he ought to make it his duty to see nothing. But he did see; and what he saw was that the bed was not in use.