“No—yes—a little. Who was that?”
“The ship’s doctor.”
“Oh. Did I go off in a faint?”
“Well, hardly that. You were nearly drowned.”
“I couldn’t keep up,” I said excitedly. “She clung to me so.”
“Yes, of course; we could see that. But be calm. Don’t get excited.”
“No,” I said. “I’m no worse for it, only I ought to have managed better. I should have swum behind her, and held her up by the hair.”
“Yes,” said my companion, smiling, “that is one theory; but it is very hard to put theory into practice at such a time.”
I lay looking at him searchingly for a few minutes, and thinking I should never like him, for he was cold and sad and stern in his manner. He smiled at me when he caught my eye, but the smile kept fading away again directly, like wintry sunshine, and I was thinking that I would ask if I could not have another berth in a cabin to myself, however small, when another thought occurred to me, and I turned to him sharply.
“I say, that dirty water will spoil all my clothes!”