't know. There may be lucky beings
in this world unable to believe any evil of themselves. For my own part
I'll tell you that once, many years ago now, it came to my knowledge that
a fellow I had been mixed up with in a certain transaction--a clever
fellow whom I really despised--was going around telling people that I was
a consummate hypocrite. He could know nothing of it. It suited his
humour to say so. I had given him no ground for that particular calumny.
Yet to this day there are moments when it comes into my mind, and
involuntarily I ask myself, 'What if it were true?' It's absurd, but it
has on one or two occasions nearly affected my conduct. And yet I was
not an impressionable ignorant young girl. I had taken the exact measure
of the fellow's utter worthlessness long before. He had never been for
me a person of prestige and power, like that awful governess to Flora de
Barral. See the might of suggestion? We live at the mercy of a
malevolent word. A sound, a mere disturbance of the air, sinks into our
very soul sometimes. Flora de Barral had been more astounded than
convinced by the first impetuosity of Roderick Anthony. She let herself
be carried along by a mysterious force which her person had called into
being, as her father had been carried away out of his depth by the
unexpected power of successful advertising.

They went on board that morning. The _Ferndale_ had just come to her
loading berth. The only living creature on board was the
ship-keeper--whether the same who had been described to us by Mr. Powell,
or another, I don't know. Possibly some other man. He, looking over the
side, saw, in his own words, 'the captain come sailing round the corner
of the nearest cargo-shed, in company with a girl.' He lowered the
accommodation ladder down on to the jetty . . . "

"How do you know all this?" I interrupted.

Marlow interjected an impatient:

"You shall see by and by . . . Flora went up first, got down on deck and
stood stock-still till the captain took her by the arm and led her aft.
The ship-keeper let them into the saloon. He had the keys of all the
cabins, and stumped in after them. The captain ordered him to open all
the doors, every blessed door; state-rooms, passages, pantry,
fore-cabin--and then sent him away.

"The _Ferndale_ had magnificent accommodation. At the end of a passage
leading from the quarter-deck there was a long saloon, its sumptuosity
slightly tarnished perha