Iris immediately stood up. She pressed her hair back defiantly.
"Certainly I can walk," she answered. "What do you propose to do?"
"Well, madam—"
"What is your name?" she interrupted imperiously.
"Jenks, madam. Robert Jenks."
"Thank you. Now, listen, Mr. Robert Jenks. My name is Miss Iris Deane. On board ship I was a passenger and you were a steward—that is, until you became a seaman. Here we are equals in misfortune, but in all else you are the leader—I am quite useless. I can only help in matters by your direction, so I do not wish to be addressed as 'madam' in every breath. Do you understand me?"
Conscious that her large blue eyes were fixed indignantly upon him Mr. Robert Jenks repressed a smile. She was still hysterical and must be humored in her vagaries. What an odd moment for a discussion on etiquette!
"As you wish, Miss Deane," he said. "The fact remains that I have many things to attend to, and we really must eat something."
"What can we eat?"
"Let us find out," he replied, scanning the nearest trees with keen scrutiny.