Corman and his sister exchanged glances and followed her; all three disappeared, but the Greek continued his meal with the same indolent serenity. As Tom was also about to get up, Wallion said: "Sit still, there's no hurry."
"But I want to speak to her," replied Tom, "I don't understand what is going on here, but she looks sad and depressed, and once for all I must speak to her."
"All right," retorted Wallion, "but couldn't you wait a few minutes?"
"And suppose they should retire to their cabins again?" said Tom vexed.
"They won't this time," said Wallion, "that would be a very bad policy, and the Doctor is a thorough diplomat ..."
A quarter of an hour later Tom and Wallion again came up on deck with fairly buoyant expectations. They had not long to wait for their mysterious fellow-passengers. Doctor Corman came out of the saloon with hands outstretched as if he had only just recognized them.
"What a surprise!" he cried, "the world is very small; so there was some truth in what my sister heard: that the famous Maurice Wallion was on board. We should have met before if the two ladies had not been so sick." He shook them warmly by the hand and talked incessantly as if to make up for the cool and over-hasty leave-taking in John Street.
"So delightful, gentlemen, such a charming surprise ... we can travel in company."
"Yes," said Wallion, "as far as Seattle let us hope."
The doctor's expression of polite surprise, which was undeniably only a mask, became more marked.