“Yes, I have.” She used it. “I wish I’d really drowned.” Her teeth were still chattering.
“It’s a submerged—hitherto—part of your ego that hurts as much as anything else. It’s undergoing birth-pangs as well as your ill-treated body.”
“I hate my body.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Oh-h-h——” A groan of dismay. “I—I feel deathly sick.”
“Lie down flat in the boat.”
She obeyed precipitately.
“Oh, I do feel dreadfully,” she moaned. “And I’ve—never—been—ill in my life.”
“Don’t talk. I’ll give you brandy in a moment. I brought it along in case of a chill.”
“Don’t tell me it’s in your hip-pocket!” She gasped. “I couldn’t stand that!”