“H’m! I suppose not,” I said, disconsolately.
“For it contains something I value very highly,” she continued, looking straight at me, and smiling in a mysterious way.
I bowed and retreated.
Now, what did she mean? Was it her jewels, that infernal photo, or was there something even more valuable in the bag, something which I had not seen?
And why should she look at me in that way if she were referring to the picture of my successor? Did she actually rejoice in this opportunity to give me pain? Women could be so mercilessly cruel when they chose.
I was not feeling so merry now; indeed, my face must have been very long, if the doubts that assailed me had much to do with my looks.
Remembering what an awful condition I must be in after this series of adventures, I sought my own stateroom, and proceeded to remove all traces of wear and tear.
The wound on my head had ceased to bleed, though there was a lump there the size of a hen’s egg, that felt very sore to the touch.
I bathed it with witch hazel, and managed to make myself fairly presentable.
Then my duties as a host forced me to seek my guests.