"Now," she said, "now, I will give you double fare, cabman, treble fare, if you will help me to get to the Esperance in time; and first of all, let us obey that good man's directions and go to Messrs. Gilling and Gilling."
The quay was close, and so was the office. In two minutes Valentine was standing, alas, by its closed doors. A sudden fierce impatience came over her, she rang the office bell loudly. Three times she rang before any one answered her summons. Then a rather dishevelled and sleepy-looking boy opened the door wide enough to poke his head out and asked her her business.
"I want to get news of the ship called the Esperance."
"Office don't open till nine."
He would have pushed the door to, but Suzanne stepping forward deftly put her foot in.
"Mine goot boy, be civil," she said. "This lady has come a long way, and she wants the tidings she asks very sore."
The office boy looked again at Valentine. She certainly was pretty; so was Suzanne. But the office really did not open till nine, and the boy could not himself give any tidings.
"You had better step in," he said. "Mr. Jones will be here at nine. No, I don't know nothing about the ship."
It was now twenty-five minutes past eight. Valentine sank down on the dusty chair which the boy pushed forward for her, and Suzanne stood impatiently by her side.
Outside, the cabman whistled a cheerful air and stamped his feet. The morning was cold; but what of that? He himself was doing a good business; he was certain of an excellent fare.