Merdyce stood with his mouth open, and as the door swung together Nina heard the first murmur of a sound that she knew would develop into an immoderate burst of laughter, rivalling, if not eclipsing their former effort in that line.
“Don’t mind them, darling, they have not an idea who you are,” whispered her husband, joyously, in her ear.
Then he opened the door of one of the small rooms along the passage. This had been Miss Marsden’s apartment. The last time Nina was in it picturesque confusion reigned triumphant from ceiling to floor. Dresses, shoes, rugs, books, bottles, hats, and cloaks lay cheek by jowl; and Miss Marsden herself, large-eyed and cheerful, reclined in the midst. Now they could see the pattern of the carpet. The whole room was as neat as wax, and the berth wherein Miss Marsden was wont to lounge was made up as neatly as if never again intended for the use of mortal man or woman.
The curtains of the berth were drawn up from the floor, and folded neatly over the white pillow. “It looks as if some one had died here,” she said, with a nervous shudder; “come away, ’Steban, we can talk in some other place.”
“You look done out,” he said, in an explanatory way. “I thought you would like to get into the first place available.”
“No,” she said, clinging to his hand, and drawing him down the passage and toward the companionway. “I feel better now. In such close proximity to your fists, I could look the whole world in the face,--I am afraid of nobody, no, not I.”
He did not speak, but his face was flushed and full of a curious expectancy, and he was gnawing his moustache in an occasional restless fashion that he had.
Nina exhibited not the slightest desire to gratify his curiosity. They were on deck now, and she stopped before a door bearing the inscription, “Captain’s Room,” on a brass plate.
It was the most cheerful apartment on the ship. The walls were panelled with some dark, shining wood; the furniture, though all of the heavy order, was handsome and elaborate. There were books and papers, but only one picture. It hung in a recess over the bed, and Nina went up and examined it. She knew that her husband possessed a picture taken of her in her childish days, but was far from guessing that it hung here.