She looked in vain for West, her grey
eyes searching perpetually.
One friend after another came up to bid them good-bye, stood a little,
talking, and presently drifted away. The whole ship from end to end
hummed like a hive of bees.
She was glad when at length she was able to escape from the noisy
saloon. She had not slept well, and her nerves were on edge. The memory
of that interrupted conversation with West, of the confidence unspoken,
went with her continually. She had an almost feverish longing to see him
once more, even though it were in the heart of the crowd. He had been
about to tell her something. Of that she was certain. She had an
intense, an almost passionate desire to know what it was. Surely he
would not--he could not--go ashore without seeing her again!
She had not intended to open the packet he had given her till she was
ashore herself, but a palpitating curiosity tugged ever at her
resolution till at length she could resist it no longer. West was
nowhere to be seen, and she felt she must know more. It was intolerable
to be thus left in the dark. Through the scurrying multitude of
departing passengers, she began to make her way back to her cabin. Her
progress was of necessity slow, and once in a crowded corner she was
stopped altogether.
Two men were talking together close to her. Their backs were towards
her, and in the general confusion they did not observe her futile
impatience to pass.
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