“I don’t see how you can talk when you’re—may be—going—to die!”
“Well, talking helps you more than crying.”
“But I—I don’t want to—die.”
“Who does?” retorted Mart roughly. Nevertheless, touched by Pola’s helplessness, she found Pola’s hand and held it close in hers. “But let’s face whatever happens with our heads up!”
“To the wind,” breathed Sidney, shivering.
“I—I just can’t be brave like you two. I—I’m an awful coward. I can’t help it. I’ve always been afraid to even try to swim. I’m afraid of lots of things. Oh, I’m afraid to—to—”
Sidney caught Pola’s other hand.
“Don’t say it, Pola. Maybe someone will find us. And probably you can’t help feeling afraid.”
Mart suddenly remembered the cookies she had brought. She found them where she had hidden them at the back of one of the bunks.
“Here, eat a cookie and you’ll forget things. I’m hungry, aren’t you, too?”