"Well she might as well kill him. He'll jump overboard," Mrs. Peck could
foretell.
"Jump overboard?" cried Mrs. Gotch as if she hoped then that Mr.
Porterfield would be told.
"He has just been waiting for this--for long, long years," said Mrs.
Peck.
"Do you happen to know him?" I asked.
She replied at her convenience. "No, but I know a lady who does. Are
you going up?"
I had risen from my place--I had not ordered supper. "I'm going to take
a turn before going to bed."
"Well then you'll see!"
Outside the saloon I hesitated, for Mrs. Peck's admonition made me feel
for a moment that if I went up I should have entered in a manner into her
little conspiracy. But the night was so warm and splendid that I had
been intending to smoke a cigar in the air before going below, and I
didn't see why I should deprive myself of this pleasure in order to seem
not to mind Mrs. Peck. I mounted accordingly and saw a few figures
sitting or moving about in the darkness. The ocean looked black and
small, as it is apt to do at night, and the long mass of the ship, with
its vague dim wings, seemed to take up a great part of it. There were
more stars than one saw on land and the heavens struck one more than ever
as larger than the earth. Grace Mavis and her companion were not, so far
as I perceived at first, among the few passengers who lingered late, and
I was glad, because I hated to hear her talked about in the manner of the
gossips I had left at supper.
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