" A detective. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. ’ A thought caught in her mind and she turned quickly to her old nurse. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is.
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