"The night fell as swiftly as the ocean rose—a lowering, wet, icy night.
"I said:
"'There's nothing to do but to stay on the ship.'
"The Englishman answered:
"'Oh, yes!'
"And we waited there a quarter of an hour, half an hour, indeed I don't know how long, watching that creeping water which grew deep about us, whirled round and round the wreck.
"One of the little girls was cold, and we went below to shelter ourselves from the light but freezing wind which blew upon us and pricked our skins.
"I leaned over the hatchway. The ship was full of water. So we must cower against the stern planking, which shielded us a little.
"The shades were now enwrapping us, and we remained pressed close to one another. I felt trembling against my shoulder the shoulder of the little English girl, whose teeth chattered from time to time. But I also felt the gentle warmth of her body through her ulster, and that warmth was as delicious to me as a kiss. We no longer spoke; we sat motionless, mute, cowering down like animals in a ditch when a hurricane is raging. And, nevertheless, despite the night, despite the terrible and increasing danger, I began to feel happy that I was there, glad of the cold and the peril, to rejoice in the long hours of darkness and anguish which I must pass on this plank so near this dainty and pretty little girl.
"I asked myself, 'Why this strange sensation of well-being and of joy?'