“You’re one of the officers, aren’t you?” she asked.
He took off his cap and smiled at her. It was such a nice smile that she was able to go on, in a brisk, sensible way:
“I was one of the passengers, you know.”
“Yes,” said he. “I saw you on board.”
“And I want to go back,” said Miss Smith. “I want to go on the ship now, and stay there until it sails.”
He couldn’t help looking astonished.
“But I’m afraid—” he began.
“Well, I’ve got to!” cried Miss Smith, and he saw, with dismay, that there were tears in her eyes. “I’ve g-got to! I have some money in the savings bank in New York, and I can pay whatever it costs as soon as we get back.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said politely; “but I’m afraid—”
He was silent for a moment, thinking of some tactful way of offering his assistance to this young person with tears in her eyes. No one could have felt more sympathetic than he; but Miss Smith, weary and sick at heart, firmly believed that he, too, thought her an adventuress.