A few minutes later they caught a glimpse of a strangled moon overhead—a livid corpse of a moon, tarnished and battered almost out of recognition.
"Clearing weather," she said cheerfully, adding: "To-morrow we may be in the danger zone…. Did you ever see a submarine?"
"Yes. Did you?"
"There were some up the Hudson. I saw them last summer while motoring along Riverside Drive."
The spectral form of an officer appeared at her elbow, said something in a low voice, and walked aft.
She said: "Well, then, I think we'd better dress. … Do you feel better?"
He said that he did, but his sombre gaze into darkness belied him. So again she slipped her arm through his and he suffered himself to be led away along the path of shinning arrows under foot.
At his door she said cheerfully: "No more undressing for bed, you know. No more luxury of night-clothes. You heard the orders about lifebelts?"
"Yes," he replied listlessly.
"Very well. I'll be waiting for you."