There was a large crowd on her
promenade-deck, and a still larger crowd on the landing-stage. Above the
promenade-deck officers paced on the navigating deck, and above that was
the airy bridge, and above that the funnels, smoking, and somewhere
still higher a flag or two fluttering in the icy breeze. And behind the
crowd on the landing-stage stretched a row of four-wheeled cabs and
rickety horses. The landing-stage swayed ever so slightly on the tide.
Only the ship was apparently solid, apparently cemented in foundations
of concrete.
On the starboard side of the promenade-deck, among a hundred other small
groups, was a group consisting of Mr and Mrs Cotterill and Ruth and
Denry. Nellie stood a few feet apart, Mrs Cotterill was crying. People
naturally thought she was crying because of the adieux; but she was not.
She wept because Denry and Ruth, by sheer force of will, had compelled
them to come out of the steerage and occupy beautiful and commodious
berths in the second cabin, where the manner of the stewards was quite
different. She wept because they had been caught in the steerage. She
wept because she was ashamed, and because people were too kind.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307