before, it was ten times worse now. To think
that she should be perched on a lonely island hundreds of miles from
civilization, without any means of communicating with the outside world,
alone with that man--and such a man!

Her heart sank as she remembered all the dreadful things she had heard
about him on the ship. It was surely calamity enough to be shipwrecked
and cast away on a stupid little island without food, shelter, or
clothes, but how much more serious was the situation when the only other
human being to be saved beside herself was the worst character on board.
The first revelation of his identity was such a shock to her nervous
system that she nearly swooned, her brain reeled, she thought she would
go insane with terror.

She tried to calm herself. At the worst, she argued philosophically, he
could only kill her and throw her body into the sea. Not that she could
look forward to such a fate with equanimity. She gulped down a
hysterical sob as she pictured her splendid form and tender young flesh
providing a toothsome meal for some rapacious shark, and she wondered if
the world--particularly her own set--would care when they read in the
sensational Sunday papers all the horrible details of her dreadful end.
Yet why, after all, should this man--this ogre--kill her? Her pearls
didn't tempt him. Hadn't he scoffed at them just now? Then her face
blanched and she dug her manicured nails deep into her skin as she
thought of a worse fate than death that could overtake her. She had read
and heard of such things--hadn't Professor Hanson, during their talks on
shipboard, conceived this very situation?

She wondered how she could protect herself and what attitude she should
adopt toward this man. An open rupture would never do; she must not even
show distrust of him. Only she must be constantly on her guard. All
these thoughts were rushing through her brain when it suddenly occurred
to her that she was hungry. What was more natural? The last thing she
had eaten was the plate of ice cream brought to her during the dance by
Count von Hatzfeld. Since then nothing but sea water had passed her
lips.

A feeling of faintness came over her, and soon her dread of Armitage
gave her less anxiety than her speculations regarding the problem of
procuring food. She was desperately hungry. Perhaps if she walked along
the shore she could pick up some shell-fish--oysters, or perhaps some
crabs. She thought pensively of the delicious