Preceded by Cato, Tom walked up-stairs, and was ushered into a small, dingy room on the second floor. There was a single window, looking through dingy panes upon a back yard. There was a general air of cheerlessness and discomfort, but at any rate it was larger than the stateroom on the River Belle.
"Is this the best room you have?" asked Tom, not very favorably impressed.
"Oh, no, sar," answered Cato. "If your wife was with you, sar, we'd give you a scrumptious room, 'bout twice as big."
"I didn't bring my wife along, Cato," said Tom, amused. "Are you married?"
"Not yet, sar," answered his colored guide, with a grin.
"I think we can wait till we are a little older."
"Reckon so, sar."
"Just bring up a little water, Cato. I feel in need of washing."
"Dirt don't show on me," said Cato, with a guffaw.
"I suppose you do wash, now and then, don't you?"