drawn out of the darkness by the light which streamed down across
the sloping deck from his stateroom. Plainly she had but just
awakened, for she was clothed in a silken nightrobe which failed
to conceal the outlines of her body, the swelling contour of her
bosom, the ripened fullness of her limbs. She had flung a quilted
dressing-gown of some sort over her shoulders and with one bare
arm and hand strove to hold it in place. He saw that her pink
feet were thrust into soft, heeless slippers--that her hair,
black in this light, cascaded down to her waist, and that her
eyes, which were very dark and very large, were fixed upon him
with a stare like that of a sleep-walker.

"It is so dark--so strange--so still!" she murmured. "What has
happened?"

"God! Didn't they waken you?" he cried in sharp surprise.

"Is the ship-sinking?" Her odd bewilderment of voice and gaze
puzzled him.

He nodded. "We struck a rock. The passengers have been taken off.
We're the only ones left. In Heaven's name where have you been?"

"I was asleep."

He shook his head in astonishment. "How you failed to hear that
hubbub--"

"I heard something, but I was ill. My head--I took something to
ease the pain."