“I hope not, mem. Shall I help you undress?”
“No, thank you.”
“And you don’t like the capting’s rooms on deck,” said the woman, rolling her eyes around the tiny apartment. She was bursting with curiosity, but Nina did not see it. “Was you afraid?” she went on when no reply was vouchsafed her.
“Yes,” said Nina, miserably.
“It’s safer here in storms. Let me unfasten that collar.”
“I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t feel well. I’ve got a dreadful pain.”
“A pain, mem,—where is it?”
“In my side. Please go away.”
The stewardess’s good-humour, preserved through a long course of waiting on querulous and seasick women, was not to be upset. “Shall I call the capting, mem?”
“No,” said Nina, decidedly, and she opened the door for her. “I’ve had too much excitement to-day. I must be alone.”