“Not that I know, sir.”
“Oh, no friends, eh? No ladies who wear white serge skirts and white shoes and stockings?”
“No, sir, not as I knows of.”
“Oh! Suppose you step across to his door, knock, and ask him if he rang. And, if the door is opened, take a quick slant at the room.”
“Very good, sir.”
Neeland, his door at the crack, watched the steward cross the corridor and knock at the door of Mr. Herbert Hawks.
“Well, what iss it?” came a heavy voice from within.
“Mr. ’Awks, sir, did you ring?”
“No, I did not.”
“Oh, beg pardon, sir––”