‘Capt’n Braine’s compliments, sir, and he’d be glad to know if there’s anything you or the lady wants which it’s in his power to supply ye with?’
I got out of the bunk and opened the door.
‘Captain Braine is very kind,’ said I to the veal-faced youth, who stood staring at me with faint eyes under his white lashes and brows. ‘What time is it, Wilkins?’
‘Half-past eight, sir,’ he answered.
I knocked upon the bulkhead. ‘Are you awake, Miss Temple?’
‘Oh yes,’ she answered, her voice sounding weak through the partition.
‘Captain Braine wishes to know if you are in want of anything it is in his power to let you have?’
‘There are many things I want,’ she exclaimed; ‘but they are not to be had, I fear. I am afraid I shall have to use that comb. I can do nothing with my hair, Mr. Dugdale.’
‘All right, Wilkins,’ said I; ‘we shall be on deck in a few minutes.’ He went away.
I found the comb that had belonged to Mr. Chicken on a shelf, and knocked on Miss Temple’s door. She opened it, and an arm of snow, of faultless shape, was projected to receive the comb. ‘Thank you,’ said she, whipping the door to, and I entered my cabin, calling out that I would wait for her there till she was ready.