[He indicates a certain berth.]
THE PORTER. Dat’s a gen’leman in dat berth, I think, sah.
MR. ROBERTS (astutely). There’s a bonnet hanging from the hook at the top. I’m not sure, but it looks like my wife’s bonnet.
THE PORTER (evidently shaken by this reasoning, but recovering his firmness). Yes, sah. But you can’t depend upon de ladies to hang deir bonnets on de right hook. Jes’ likely as not dat lady’s took de hook at de foot of her berth instead o’ de head. Sometimes dey takes both.
MR. ROBERTS. Ah! [After a pause.] Porter!
THE PORTER. Yes, sah.
MR. ROBERTS. You wouldn’t feel justified in looking?
THE PORTER. I couldn’t, sah; I couldn’t, indeed.
MR. ROBERTS (reaching his left hand toward THE PORTER’S, and pressing a half dollar into his instantly responsive palm). But there’s nothing to prevent my looking if I feel perfectly sure of the bonnet?
THE PORTER. N-no, sah.