Clement Seadon, with a throbbing heart, went along. He went to his own cabin. There seemed to be a crowd of people in that cabin. In the blur which his painful sensations brought to him, Clement could only distinguish one excited and angry lady and a steward—the evil little steward. He turned his face quickly away from these. He looked at Captain Heavy. He meant to say something to Heavy, but his mouth was parched.
Captain Heavy, his good-tempered face frowning, understood that inquiring look. “Yes, it does seem an idiot mob to thrust into a man’s cabin, old chap. None of my doing. I—well, look here, it’s a rotten and unwarrantable thing, but—but you see this lady has lost a valuable piece of jewelry ... a diamond tiara.... She says it has been stolen....”
“It has been stolen,” snapped the lady.
“Well—she says it has been stolen. And one of the stewards declares he knows who did it. In fact—in fact, old man, he has the—the effrontery to say that it was—you.”
“Well,” said Clement, in a voice whose evenness surprised him.
“Well—well,” said the distressed captain. “Well—they came along to see for themselves—to—to search.”