"
"Yes," said I; "and what do you wish me to do?"
"I wish to go in a disguise, of course; to dress in your cabin, if you
will let me. I cannot dress here, it would attract attention; and I am
not a first-class passenger."
"I fear," I replied, "that it is impossible for me to assist you to the
privileges of a first-class passenger. You see, I am an officer of the
ship. But still I can help you. You shall leave this cabin to-night. I
will arrange so that you may transfer yourself to one in the first-class
section. . . . No, not a word; it must be as I wish in this. You are ill;
I can do you that kindness at least, and then, by right, you can attend
the ball, and, after it, your being among the first-class passengers can
make little difference; for you will have met and spoken then, either to
peace or otherwise."
I had very grave doubts of any reconciliation; the substance of my
notable conversation with Mrs. Falchion was so prominent in my mind. I
feared she would only reproduce the case of Anson and his wife. I was
also afraid of a possible scene--which showed that I was not yet able to
judge of her resources.
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