On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. The chance had gone. “I will be off,” she declared. His glance came up again and met hers. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand.
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