They stumbled apart.
"What am I saying?" he said hoarsely, and she turned away from him, hiding her face.
A rush of cold moist air blew in upon her from the open doorway. He was gone. She got the door shut, and sat down on the edge of the berth. A cool breeze flowed in like water through the shutters of the windows; she felt the throbbing of the engines. Even through her closed lids she could not bear the light, and after a while she turned it out, trembling, and lay open-eyed in the darkness.
The stopping of the boat struck her aching nerves like a blow. She sat up, neither asleep nor awake, pushing her hair back from a face that seemed sodden and lifeless. A pale twilight filled the stateroom. She smoothed her hair, straightened her crumpled dress as well as she could, and went out on the deck. The boat lay at the Sacramento landing.
A few feet away Paul was leaning upon the railing, his face pale and haggard in the cold light As she went toward him the events of the night danced fantastically through her brain, as grotesque and feverish as images in a dream.
"You don't hate me, do you, Helen?" he pleaded hopelessly.
"Of course not," she said. Through her weariness she felt a stirring of pity. For the first time in her life she told herself to smile, and did it. "We'd better be getting off, hadn't we?"
The grayness of dawn was in the air, paling the street-lights. A few workmen passed them, plodding stolidly, carrying lunch-pails and tools; a baker's wagon rattled by, awakening loud echoes. She tried to comfort Paul, whose talk was one long self-reproach.
He hoped she would not get into a row with the folks where she stayed. If she did, she must let him know; he wouldn't stand for anything like that. She could reach him in Masonville till Saturday; then he would come down again on his way home. He hadn't thought he could stop on the way back, but he would. He'd be worried about her until he saw her again and was sure everything was all right. He had been an awful boob not to be sure about the boat; he'd never forgive himself if—
"What is it?" he broke off. She had turned to look after a young man who passed them. The motion was almost automatic; she had hardly seen the man and not until he was past did her tired mind register an impression of a cynically smiling eye.