“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
“Bah!” she cried that evening, throwing down her cards at the table in the men’s smoking-room, where she had made it fashionable for the women to gather after dinner. “It ’s stuffy as a zoo in here. Can’t you have some more port-holes opened, Ashurst?”
“They are all wide open now; so is the ventilator,” he answered. “What do you say—shall we chuck it?”
Their two opponents, a young Boston bride and her husband who belonged to the “hunting set” at Myopia and were regarded at home as ultra-exclusive, hastened to signify their assent, and the table broke up.
“My maid tells me there is a vaudeville show in the second cabin. What do you say—shall we take it in?” inquired the bride. She spoke languidly, lighting a thin Russian cigarette which she took from a dainty dangling case of gold, while the eyes of forty male passengers watched her eagerly.
“Let ’s,” said Mrs. Trevelyan. “I think we ought to be able to bribe the second-cabin steward to pass us into the menagerie. Anyhow, we can stand at the door.”
The quartet sauntered along the deck and48
