After he found her, and went on board, he was glad he had not gone sooner.

A queasy odor of drainage stole up from the waters of the dock, and mixed with the rank, gross sweetness of the bags of beet-root sugar from the freight-steamers; there was a coming and going of carts and trucks on the wharf, and on the ship a rattling of chains and a clucking of pulleys, with sudden outbreaks and then sudden silences of trampling sea-boots.

Burnamy looked into the dining-saloon and the music-room, with the notion of trying for some naps there; then he went to his state-room.

His room-mate, whoever he was to be, had not come; and he kicked off his shoes and threw off his coat and tumbled into his berth.
He meant to rest awhile, and then get up and spend the night in receiving impressions.

He could not think of any one who had done the facts of the eve of sailing on an Atlantic liner.