you like. I never talk to people unless they are worth talking to, and
then I talk hard. Will you begin, or shall I? I have at least two hundred
things to ask."

"It is my turn, though, I think." She accepted him on his own ground,
with an open and natural friendliness.

"I have only one at the moment, which is, 'Why haven't we talked
before?'" and she glanced with a quiet humorousness at the few
unpromising samples of the second cabin who obstructed the windward deck.

"Oh, good for you!" he applauded, "aren't they loathly!"

"Oh, no, all right, only not stimulating--"

"And we are," he finished for her, "so that, obviously, your question has
only one answer. We haven't talked before because I haven't seen you
before, and I haven't seen you because I have been growling in my cabin
--voila tout!"

"Oh, never growl--it's such a waste of time," she answered. "You'll see,
the second cabin isn't bad."

"It certainly isn't, _now_," rejoiced Stefan. "My turn for a
question. Have you relatives, or are you, like myself, alone in the
world?"

"Quite alone," said Mary, "except for a married sister, who hardly
counts, as she's years older than I, and fearfully preoccupied with
husband, houses, and things." She paused, then added, "She hasn't any