The doctor came in answer to her scream and lifted Bivens to his stateroom, while Nan bent low over the prostrate form, holding his hand to her breast in a close, agonising clasp, while she whispered:
"Jim, speak to me! You can't die yet, we haven't lived!"
He sighed and gasped:
"Is he alive?"
"Yes, in his stateroom there, cursing you with every breath."
The young lawyer closed his eyes, blinded with tears, murmuring over and over again:
"Thank God!—Thank God!"
CHAPTER IV
THE MOCKERY OF THE SUN