. He was helping a woman out of a cab
in front of the building where he rooms. She was intoxicated, and--his
arm was round her waist."

"I don't believe it. It was somebody else," the young woman flamed.

"His cousin recognized him. So did I."

"There must be some explanation. I'll ask him."

"Ask him!" Valencia's level eyebrows lifted "Really, I don't think that
will do. Better quietly eliminate him."

"You mean treat him as if he were guilty when, I am sure he is not."

Mrs. Van Tyle's little laugh rippled out. "You're quite dramatic about
it, my dear. The man's of no importance. He's a _poseur_, a demagogue,
and one with a vicious streak in him. I understand, of course, that
you're interested only because he different from the other men you know.
That merely a part of his pose."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"You're romantic, my dear. I'll admit his arrival on this ship was
dramatic. No doubt you're imagining him a knight going back to save
gallantly a day that is lost. He's only a politician, and so far as I
can understand they are almost all a bad lot."

"Including Father and Uncle Joe and Ned Merrill?" Alice asked acidly.

"They are not politicians, but business men. They are in politics merely
to protect their interests. But I didn't intend to start a discussion
about Mr. Farnum. I ask you to remember that as your chaperone I'm here
to represent your father. Would he wish you to be friendly with this
man?"

Alice was silent. What her father would think was not a matter of doubt.

"The man's impossible," Mrs. Van Tyle went on pleasantly. "And it's just
as well to be careful. Not that I'm very prudish myself. But if you're
going to marry Ned Merrill--"

She had struck the wrong note. Like a flash Alice answered.

"I'm not. That's definitely decided."

"Really! I thought it was rather arranged," Valencia smiled blandly.

It was all very well for Alice to protest, but in the end she would be
a good girl and do as she was told. Not that her cousin objected to her
having a little fling before the fatal day. But why couldn't the girl do
her flirting with Beauchamp instead of with this wild socialist?

Valencia reflected that at any rate she had done her duty.

Part 2

Jeff was tramping the deck, his hands in his coat pockets, waiting for
the trumpeter to fling out the two bars of music that would summon him
to breakfast. He walked vigorously? drawing in deep breaths of the salt
sea air. His thoughts we