"Damn being poor!" The word startled her as a blow would have done. Paul, so sincerely and humbly a church member—Paul swearing! He went on without a pause. "If I had a little money, if I only had a little money! What right has it got to make such a difference? Oh, Helen, you don't know how I want you!"
"Paul, Paul dear, you mustn't!" Her hand was crushed against his face, his shoulders shook. She drew his dear, tousled head against her shoulder.
"Don't, dear, don't! Please."
He pushed away from her and got up. She let him go, shielding his embarrassment even from her own eyes. "I seem to be making a fool of myself generally," he said shakily. He walked about the room, looking with an appearance of interest at the pictures on the walls. "It's funny there aren't more people on board," he said conversationally after a while. "Well, I guess I'll go see what time we get in." He came back five minutes later, an odd expression on his face.
"Look here, Helen," he said gruffly. "We won't get in for hours. Something wrong with the engines. They're only making half time. I—ah—I don't know why I didn't think of it before. You've got to work to-morrow and all. The man suggested—"
"Well, for goodness' sake, suggested what?"
"Everybody else has berths," he said. "You better let me get you one, because there's no sense in your sitting up all night. There's no knowing when we'll get in."
"But, Paul, I hate to have you spend so much. I could sleep a little right here." A vision of the office went through her mind, and she saw herself, sleepy-eyed, struggling to get messages into the right envelopes and trying to manage the unmanageable messenger-boys. She was tired. But it would be awfully expensive, no doubt. "And besides, I'd rather stay here with you," she said.
"So would I. But we might as well be sensible. You've got to work, and I'd probably go to sleep, too. Come on, let's see how much it is, anyhow."
They found the right place after wandering twice around the boat. A weary man sat behind the half-door, adding up a column of figures. "Berths? Sure. Outside, of course. One left. Dollar and a half." His expectation brought the money, as if automatically, from Paul's pocket. He came out, yawning, a key with a dangling tag in his hand. "This way."