Radley Staff is a minor character in the series, but in this one book, takes the part of a major character.  While I really like him, it is only in this part of the story that he really needs to stand out.

One month later, as the winter wind whipped through his blond hair, Radley Staff climbed up the long rope ladder to the deck of the cruise ship S.S. Arrow.  The launch which had carried him from the Superb turned, and the stout seamen rowed it back across the choppy sea.  At the top of the ladder, he climbed through the opening in the railing and stepped onto the deck.  The purser was there to greet him.

“Welcome aboard.  Glad to have you with us, Commander Staff.”

“It’s just Mr. Staff now.”

“Yes, of course.  The captain has asked me to inform you that even though we only have a second class cabin available for you, you will have access to all the first class amenities.”

“That’s very nice.  Thank you.”

The purser smile broadly.  “The cabin boy will show you the way.”

“Thank you.”

The cabin boy, a lad of about ten years, lifted Staff’s duffle bag to his shoulder, and headed across the damp deck toward an open hatch.  Unlike the hatches on the battleship, this one resembled the door of a building.  Staff followed the youth inside and then down three narrow sets of stairs, up a long narrow corridor and finally through another door into a small room.  At six feet wide and sixteen feet long, the second class cabin was actually larger than the first officer’s quarters on Superb.  The boy sat the duffle bag next to the bed, and Staff handed him a silver ten pfennig piece.  Saluting, the boy left, closing the door after him.

Staff sat down on the edge of the bed.  Pulling the duffle bag strings open, he reached in and pulled out the pieces of his wardrobe, setting them on the bed beside him.  He had made his way about halfway to the bottom, when he reached his shaving kit.  Sitting atop of it was the letter.  He looked at it for a moment, and then unfolded it.  The fold lines were so pressed into the paper now that they seemed the most permanent part of it.  The ink was faded, but still legible.

Dear Lieutenant Staff,

I wanted to let you know that I will be marrying soon.  Please do not write and please do not return.  I wish things could have been different.  Good-bye.

Sincerely,

Iolanthe.

He must have read it forty five thousand times, but he read it again anyway.  Thirty five words.  Not a lot of wasted ones.  Not a lot of wasted emotion, either.  He folded the letter back up and placed it along with his shaving kit, on the small vanity next to the bed.  Taking out the last of his clothes, he put his socks in the single drawer, left the rest of his clothing sitting on the bed, and taking his extra pair of shoes, he stood up and stepped out the door of the cabin.  He placed his shoes in the hallway by the door and walked up the hallway toward the ships bow.

He had passed five or six cabins when one of the doors opened and a cabin boy stepped out.  Staff wasn’t sure if it was the same boy who had escorted him to his own cabin.  The boy looked up.

“I need my clothes pressed,” said Staff.

“Yes, Sir.  Cabin?”

“213.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And which way is the first class lounge?”

“Straight ahead, Sir.  Up the first staircase on your right.  Royal deck.  Third one up.”

“Thanks.”

Staff followed the boy’s directions and found the first class lounge with no problem.  Though he wore a new suit that he had purchased in Nutooka, he felt decidedly underdressed.  The dozen people in the spacious room already wore their evening clothes though it was only sixteen hundred hours.  Four PM, he mentally corrected himself.  A beautiful raven haired woman, in an iridescent purple taffeta ball gown with beaded and sequined trim sat at the piano, playing a wistful tune.