He walked to the door, opened it a c***k, satisfied himself that the companionway was empty. He let himself out, closed the door behind him.
Meg walked out of the lavatory, toweling her damp hair. She was wondering how far she could push Weston with safety. Ever since he had started making time with the Eldridge kid, she had been worried that he was slipping out of her grasp. She balled the towel, threw it into the lavatory, walked over to a small desk built into the wall.
She found some stationery and an envelope in the top drawer, sat down and started to write. When she had filled the sheet with a large, childish scrawl, she leaned back, read it and nodded her satisfaction. Then she folded it and stuck it into the envelope and scribbled Miss F. Eldridge on it and sealed the envelope.
