"You mean the ship don't go to Piræus?"
"I mean she won't go to Athens."
"Well, I done the best I could for her. She could have my cabin, and I'd sleep in the chart-room."
"How can she get on board?" asked Mr. Dainopoulos. "Does she think I'm goin' to get myself into a lotta trouble for her? Why, let me say to you, Mister, I do plenty business with these peoples, but I could not get a passport now for Mrs. Dainopoulos. No! How can I get one for a girl who nobody knows nothing about? Such foolishness!"
"Just what I told her and she laughed at me and told me she'd manage it."
"She may do that. She can get one of these officers to fix it, very likely. You know how they are, these French officers. Anything for a pretty young lady."
"She wouldn't do that," said Mr. Spokesly with a troubled air. "She's a friend of Mrs. Dainopoulos, remember."
"I remember all right. But plenty of women do that sort of business all the time in war. Every war the same. Something, I dunno what you call it, gets 'em. They go crazy, a little. They like the uniforms and the tom-te-tom-tom-tom of the music. You know what I mean. I tell her she oughta get a job in Stein's. But she don't like anybody to tell her anything. She ain't nothin' to me. Her mother...! Humph!" And Mr. Dainopoulos flicked his thumbs outward.
"What I told her was, if she did get aboard, she'd have a trip down to the Islands and back. But she don't understand."
"She don't understand nothin' only buyin' clothes an' thinkin' she's one of these here grand duchesses in Russia," snapped Mr. Dainopoulos. "Don't you take any notice of her nonsense stuff."