"What do you say? Let's slip in and wait for the rain to be over!"
Laura's proposition almost took Alene's breath away.
"But will they allow?"
"Oh, yes, what difference could it make? It's empty, so we won't be in anyone's way!" returned Laura airily, and as the rain still beat upon the boat, and they were both very tired, having been on their feet for several hours, so they entered the inviting little parlor without further hesitation.
It was cosy and snug within but rather stuffy, the small windows being closed; but the girls seated side by side on the big chair beside the table found the situation very enjoyable.
"I feel like a traveler, as if we were taking a sail to some outlandish place," said Laura, getting up to adjust her hat before a small mirror set in the wall, beneath which was a stationary wash-stand with holes for bowl and pitcher.
"Let's pretend we're on one of those funny Chinese boats like Uncle Fred told me about; they have large, painted eyes without which no Chinaman would set sail. They say; 'No got eye, no can see—no can see, no can walkee!'"
Alene placed her bundles on the center table and leaned back cosily in the cushioned chair. She was in the midst of a reverie where a queer-looking Chinese mandarin was trying to persuade her to buy a blue glass pitcher, when Laura's voice brought her back to reality.
"Alene, Alene, it's moving—the boat!"
"But it's tied to that big iron ring—it can't move from the wharf!"