“I call it an outrage,” said Mrs. Cluffins, waving the parasol wildly. “I never heard of such a thing; I’d like to give Mr. Gannett a piece of my mind. Just about half an hour of it He wouldn’t be the same man afterwards—I’d parrot him.”
Mrs. Gannett, soothing her agitated friend as well as she was able, led her gently to a chair and removed her bonnet, and finding that complete recovery was impossible while the parrot remained in the room, took that wonder-working bird outside.
By the time they had reached the docks and boarded the Curlew Mrs. Cluffins had quite recovered her spirits. She roamed about the steamer asking questions, which savoured more of idle curiosity than a genuine thirst for knowledge, and was at no pains to conceal her opinion of those who were unable to furnish her with satisfactory replies.
“I shall think of you every day, Jem,” said Mrs. Gannett tenderly.
“I shall think of you every minute,” said the engineer reproachfully.
He sighed gently and gazed in a scandalised fashion at Mrs. Cluffins, who was carrying on a desperate flirtation with one of the apprentices.
“She’s very light-hearted,” said his wife, following the direction of his eyes.
“She is,” said Mr. Gannett curtly, as the unconscious Mrs. Cluffins shut her parasol and rapped the apprentice playfully with the handle. “She seems to be on very good terms with Jenkins, laughing and carrying on. I don’t suppose she’s ever seen him before.”
“Poor young things,” said Mrs. Cluffins solemnly, as she came up to them. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Gannett; I’ll look after her and keep her from moping.”
“You’re very kind,” said the engineer slowly.