hanging around that adventuress! I do wish I knew who she is: I'll bet she's got a history behind her!"
"Perhaps in front of her," Olivia suggested, and could be heard to yawn. "She's beautiful."
"She may be," Mrs. Tinker admitted cautiously; "but she looks like a woman to me that'd always be up to something or other, you couldn't tell what. Anyway, the thing that's sort of disappointed me so far is, I thought there'd be so many cultivated-looking people on board, and except that second head-waiter in the dining-room with the eyeglasses, I haven't seen a one."
The light clicked out upon that, and the incensed young man heard no more. Inevitably and by every possible means, it seemed, these Tinkers, middle-class Middle Westerners, of whom he had never heard two weeks ago, were ruining his voyage and his temper, and actually interfering with his life;—at least, thinking of Mme. Momoro, he went so far as to put the matter in that extreme way. He could only pray for haste to Algiers and his departure from the boat and all contact with such people.
But in the morning for a time the engrossing lady made him forget his ill-humour. He stood with her
