"Yes. But——"
"Ever been on this side?"
"No. But——"
"He'll come some day, won't he? Most unmarried Dukes do."
"I don't know, I'm sure. Really, I think——"
"Excuse me. You're going to stay with Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox, I believe. Will you make a lengthy visit?"
"I don't——"
"You must have met one or two of our smartest young men on board. What do you think of them as compared with Englishmen?"
Long before this I had made up my mind that he couldn't have anything to do with the Customs, or if he did, that it was no wonder Mrs. Ess Kay had been driven to swearing in the saloon. I was glad now that his nose was bleeding, and I turned my back upon him, because it was the most emphatic gesture I could think of. But as I faced round the other way, wondering if my luggage would ever come, another man pushed through the "B's" who had got their boxes, and almost bounded into a foot of unoccupied space in front of me.
"Lady Bulkeley?" he shot at me, like history repeating itself; only he pronounced me as if my name were founded on my size and weight.