Captain busy hammering at a hole in the funnel – dangerous place to spring a leak in – hope he is making it water-tight. The hammering reminds me of that poor devil in the bedroom next to mine at the hotel. He won't catch the boat now – he can't! My Aunt (who has left off looking like Mr. Gladstone) asks me why I am laughing. I tell her about that unfortunate man and his "thirty-five seconds." She screams with laughter. Very humorous woman, my Aunt.
Deck crowded with passengers now: all pointing and staring … at whom? Ask Aunt Maria. She declines to tell me: says, severely, that "If I don't know, I ought to."
Great Heavens! It's at me they're staring! And no wonder – in the hurry I was in, I must have packed everything up!.. I've come away just as I was! Now I understand why someone offered me a necktie. Where shall I go and hide myself? Shall I ever persuade that beast of a portmanteau to give me out one or two things to put on – because I really can't go about like this! Captain still hammering at funnel – but he can't wake that sleepy-headed idiot in the next room. "Louder – knock louder, or the boat will go without him! Tell him there isn't another for two days. He's said good-bye to everybody he knows at Oban – he will look such an ass if he doesn't go, after all!"… Not the least use! Wonder what his name is. My Aunt says she knows, only she won't tell me – she'll whisper it, as a great secret. She is just about to disclose the name, which, somehow, I am extremely curious to know – when …
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