"Of course, there's less danger here than in port," she continued in the
same icy tone, utterly ignoring me, "for here, at least, we can't be
boarded at night by irresponsible people."

I winced.

"By people who drink," she added.

I winced again, for I seemed to be getting the winces now, and couldn't
stop.

"That isn't fair, Miss Graham! Circumstances are against me, but you
might suspend judgment till you know me better!"

"The circumstances require no further evidence," she said, with supreme
indifference.

"But circumstantial evidence," I felt pleased at turning her phrase,
"often wears the cap and bells, instead of the wig and gown!"

"I'm discovering that," she murmured, and added with a touch of sarcasm:
"The knack of making a catch phrase is often very agreeable, but
presupposes no presence of an idea."

Now I thought this most unkind of her, because I had been quite set up
by my retort; so, arising with as much dignity as the waves would
permit, I buttoned my coat, remarking:

"Then I'll go on deck, and leave you."

The coat was tight and, while fastening it, I felt something in an inner
pocket press against my side. There are few impulses more natural than
to investigate anything that has a curious feel in one's pocket, so
thrusting in my hand I brought forth a small round frame of brass, made
in the imitation of a porthole, encircling her photograph. This would
not have happened had I remembered being in her father's clothes, but
it was done, and I stood looking first at the picture and then at her.

"Give it to me," she cried.

"I don't see why," I temporized, not at all loath at having this chance
for revenge.

"It's mine," she imperiously announced.

"It may be a picture of you, but, as you perceive, not at this moment
your picture," and my eyes lowered again and lingered on it, for it was
indeed a wonderful likeness, moving me strangely by its amazing beauty.
The frame, too, gave it added charm, as she seemed really to be looking
out of a porthole.

"Give that to me this instant," she said, with such a show of passion
that I passively surrendered it, and started to walk away. Yet some
cruel power held my feet. I tried again to move, but could not.

Overhead the men were working desperately at the pumps to keep us
afloat. One of them left his place and passed us, whispering:

"It's no use--we're gone!"

The cabin was in twilight as I again turned to her. She had crawled to
the