(2)
But Paul was to fulfil Muriel's prediction sooner than she expected. The little Gaika meandered in her slow and steady way down the Red Sea. At the close of a sweltering day, she drew into Port Sudan, and it was at Port Sudan that Paul Kestern began first to think about morality in the light of his opened eyes. It happened this way.
The three were sitting over coffee in the saloon when the Major, who had finished earlier and had gone up on deck, re-entered and crossed over to them. "I say," he said, "the skipper says we shall be here all night and can go ashore if we like. You three care to come?"
"By Jove, yes," cried Paul excitedly, jumping up.
"It's a dull place, you know," said the Major, as if it were his duty to apologise for it. "A wharf, a railway station and sand, mostly. But it's rather interestin'. It's going to be the main port for Khartoum and Upper Egypt one day."
"Is there nothing else to see but sand, Major?" queried Muriel, smiling.
"Oh, there are some native stores, Miss Lister, and an hotel where we can get a drink. And it will be cool on shore in the night air."
"That settles it," said the girl. "Coming, Ursie?"
"Rather," said Ursula.
"Hurrah," cried Paul. "Shall I get your scarves?"