After a while I heard some of our boarders talking on the floor below. Opening my door and listening eagerly I heard one of them say, in such a casual tone:
"Rather sad—this South Pole business, isn't it?"
"Yes, if it's true."
"Doesn't seem much doubt about that—unless there are two ships of the same name, you know."
At that my heart leapt up. I had now two rafts to cling to. Just then the gong sounded, and my anxiety compelled me to go down to tea.
As I entered the drawing-room the old colonel was unfolding a newspaper.
"Here we are," he was saying. "Reported loss of the Scotia—Appalling Antarctic Calamity."
I tried to slide into the seat nearest to the door, but the old actress made room for me on the sofa close to the tea-table.
"You enjoyed the rehearsal? Yes?" she whispered.
"Hush!" said our landlady, handing me a cup of tea, and then the old colonel, standing back to the fire, began to read.