Strange mix-up." "Here, try one of these," urged Killigrew, as the butt of Crawford's cigar went overboard.
"Thanks." Thomas moved away from the ventilator.

Mix-up, indeed! He stole down to the promenade deck, where the stewardess informed him that Miss Killigrew had just ordered her chocolate.

He flew to the kitchens.

It was a narrow escape.

To have been found wanting the first night out! "Come in," said a voice in answer to his knock.
[Illustration: "Come in," said a voice.] He set the tray down on the stool, his heart insurgent and his fingers all thumbs.