"If they only don't throw Billy-goat and the cat overboard!" said Karsten thoughtfully.
"Are you up here again?" called Mother.
"Ye-es."
We ran away out forward, away to the bow of the boat. Usually I think there is nothing so jolly as to sit far, far out in the bow, seeing nothing of the boat back of me, just as if I were gliding forward high up in the air. But to-day it wasn't the least bit jolly, for all that cream down on the sofa was frightful to think of. Karsten and I couldn't talk of anything else. He was angry, however, because I hadn't mopped it up.
"Well, but I couldn't wipe it up with nothing."
"Oh, you could have taken your waterproof or something out of our trunk."
I was really struck by that thought. Perhaps—perhaps I could get hold of something to wipe up all that disgusting cream with. We both got up from the box where we had been sitting. O horrors! There stood the dining-room stewardess facing us. No sight could have been more terrible to me.
"Oh, here you are, are you? Of course it was you who have got things in such a condition in the dining-saloon."
I looked at Karsten and Karsten looked at me.
"Yes, the cat upset the bowl," I said faintly.