EVER since the “first breakfast,” groups of passengers had been trooping down the gang-plank, hurrying with guide-book and satchel to “do” Naples, Vesuvius, Pompeii, etc., before the steamer should sail again in the evening. An angular chap in proper steamer _négligé_ lounged contentedly on the starboard rail and watched them go. By eight o’clock he seemed to have the starboard rail to himself. At that hour he was leaning heavily forward, presumably watching the ant-like stevedores loading and unloading the steamer, but he was quite aware of another lone passenger, slowly moving towards him. He had seen her come on at Genoa--anyone would have noticed the clean-cut, tailor-made figure--and o…
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