"Oh, that's dreadful. You must have it attended at once. Let me get something."
Warren stoically drew it away from the gentle touch of the white fingers.
"Oh, it's all right. The ship's surgeon will welcome a little professional exercise. I'll be the first patient, as we're not out far enough for the seasickness practice yet."
He turned toward Rusty, who was making a mental comparison of the room with the steamboat cabins back on the Ohio River. Rusty decided that even the old Gallia Queen, in her palmiest days, could not have been much more resplendent than this "foreign" boat!
"You can go back and rest yourself, Rusty," suggested Jarvis. "And, listen—what's the number of the stateroom?"
"Seven-twenty-nine, sir."
"How did you get the tickets, in my name? I was registered differently at the other hotel."
"Oh, I jest told 'em dey was for Mr. R. Snow, a rich Southern gentleman. When I gits down here, I tells Mr. Snow has decided to send his repersentative! Den I had de name changed—dat's all, Marse Warren."
Maria Theresa smiled again, and Rusty accepted it as a supreme compliment.
"You are a diplomat, Rusty," she said.