Hazel took it from his pocket and handed it over.
“Have you any luggage?”
“Only a portmanteau, which I placed in my bunk. It contains a certain amount of necessary linen.”
“Wait here until I find out what there is to be had in the first cabin.”
Stranleigh went down to the purser, and that overworked official threw him a friendly glance, which nevertheless indicated that his time was valuable.
“My name is Trevelyan,” said the young man.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Trevelyan. You have our premier suite. How do you like your accommodation?”
“I haven’t seen it yet. I have just discovered a friend, a rather eccentric man, who had made up his mind to cross the Atlantic in the steerage. One of those silly bets, you know, which silly young men make in our silly London clubs, and I have persuaded him out of it.”
“Our steerage is supposed to be rather comfortable, Mr. Trevelyan.”