“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
nervously. “They would n’t do such a thing. Anyhow, you could bring them in. No one would think of searching you!”
“I?—Oh, madam! I should not dare! They might put me in prison!” cried Fantine.
“Don’t!” snapped Mrs. Trevelyan. “You are pulling my hair. Well, I ’m sure we can devise some way to fool the inspectors. Anyway, it does n’t do any harm to try. You can always pay the duty if you don’t succeed!”
“Peut-etre, madame!” answered Fantine, shrugging her shoulders. “I should not like to do it!”
By this time Mrs. Trevelyan had finished her breakfast and the maid had fastened her into a trim, ochre-colored costume and pinned on her hat.
“Voila! Madame!” she sighed, stepping back. “Vous etes charmante! La plus chic!”
Mrs. Trevelyan glanced at herself in the glass and lit a cigarette from a silver box lying on the dressing table. Then she stepped out on deck and walked erectly towards the stern. It was now about eleven o’clock and the edge had been already taken off the morning appetite104
