accustomed to most anything when we have to. I wasn't
overfond of the job I had on the ship, but I had to knuckle down to it
all the same. We don't always get things the way we want them, do we?"

She ignored the rebuke, too much perturbed at the gloomy prospect he
held out. Nor did she notice that this was the first allusion he had
made to his work in the stoke-hold.

"Even a month would seem like a century," she went on almost
hysterically. "Is there no possible way of reaching the mainland?"

He shook his head.

"The nearest land is a good eight hundred miles away. We have no
boat--no compass----"

"Oh, what can we do? What can we do?" she wailed, pacing to and fro,
swinging her hands.

"Make the best of it, I should say," he replied coolly. There was the
suggestion of a smile hovering around his mouth, and his eyes were full
on her as he added: "I'm in no particular hurry to get away myself."

She saw the covert smile and the boldness of his glance, and it aroused
her resentment. Forgetting her caution she turned angrily on him.

"Of course, _you_ don't care. Why should you? You find there's plenty
here to eat and nothing to do. That kind of life suits you better, no
doubt, than having to earn a living by hard work. You've no friends who
are mourning for you, no father or mother grieving over your supposed
death. So long as you can enjoy creature comforts without paying for
them, you are satisfied to stay here forever. But with me it's
different. My life has not been like yours. You ought to realize that.
What may seem like comfort and all that is necessary to you, is torture
and starvation to me. You ought to be able to see that! You ought! You
ought!"

She stopped, her face red from excitement, her bosom heaving, her voice
choking with sobs.

Taken aback at the vehemence of her hysterical outburst, he simply
looked at her, admiring her flashing, dark eyes, fascinated by her
beauty. He did not care what she said, although she had spoken as a
woman might to her lackey. Her words were stinging, her tone
contemptuous. She had given him plainly to understand that she was
fashioned of entirely different clay. When forced to it by circumstances
she might, when thirsty, share his cup. She might, when hungry, accept
part of his food, but aside from the satisfying of these elemental human
desires, he and she had naught in common. He must understand that
plainly.

"She's dead right," he said to himself. Sociall