“You can’t wait here.”
“But that is nonsense. I have come from Oxfordshire at her request.”
“It don’t matter tuppence where you’ve come from. No one is allowed aboard. Them’s my orders.”
Miss Dane turned bewildered eyes on Warden.
“How can one reason with a surly person like this?” she asked.
“He is incapable of reason—he wants a hiding,” said Warden.
A bewhiskered visage of the freak variety glared down at him.
“Does he, you swob,” roared the apparition, “an’ oo’s goin’ to give it ‘im?”
“I am. Take this lady to the saloon, and come with me to the cutter yonder. My man will bring you to your bunk in five minutes, or even less.”
“For goodness’ sake, Mr. Warden, do not make my ridiculous position worse,” cried the girl, reddening with annoyance. “Mrs. Baumgartner wrote and urged me to see her without any delay on board this yacht. I telegraphed her early this morning saying I would be here soon after midday. What am I to do?”