Things were well under way.
At the desk in the corner one officer was jotting down notes as to the
clearance papers and the cargo; while at a table in the foreground sat
his comrade, in a lieutenant's uniform, with the captain of the _Re
d'Italia_ at his right, swart-faced and silent, and the list of the
passengers lying before the pair.
As I entered a few moments behind Van Blarcom, I perceived that the
interrogation had already run a partial course. Pietro Ricci, the
reservist, had, no doubt, emerged with flying colors and now stood
against the wall beside the doughty agent of the Phillipson Rifles, who
had apparently satisfied his inquisitor, too. Near the door a group of
stewards had clustered to watch with interest; and as I stood waiting,
the girl in furs came in.
I put myself a hypothetical query.
"If a girl," I thought, "materializes from the void, asks an
incriminating favor, and vanishes, does that put one on bowing terms
with her when one meets her again?" Evidently it did, for she smiled
brightly and graciously and bent her ruddy head.
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