"What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. I am. Sometimes at sea a skipper will order his men to trim, batten down the hatches, and clear the deck of all litter. “Want to see the upstairs?” “Sure. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. ’ ‘Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,’ Gerald said. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. Heard voices. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. I hated him. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention.
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