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fact, I thought I might just possibly last out the end of the voyage. When my stewardess spoke of the attractions of a little chicken broth, I only protested feebly. When it came I enjoyed it.
    My attractive woman had been ashore. She came back escorted by a tall, soldierly-looking man with dark hair and a bronzed face whom I had noticed striding up and down the deck earlier in the day. I put him down at once as one of the strong silent men of Rhodesia. He was about forty, with a touch of greying hair at either temple, and was easily the best-looking man on board.
    When the stewardess brought me up an extra rug, I asked her if she knew who my attractive woman was.
    â€œThat’s a well-known society lady, the Hon. Mrs. Clarence Blair. You must have read about her in the papers.”
    I nodded, looking at her with renewed interest. Mrs. Blair was very well-known indeed as one of the smartest women of the day. I observed, with some amusement, that she was the centre of a good deal of attention. Several people essayed to scrape acquaintance with the pleasant informality that a boat allows. I admired the polite way that Mrs. Blair snubbed them. She appeared to have adopted the strong, silent man as her special cavalier, and he seemed duly sensible of the privilege accorded him.
    The following morning, to my surprise, after taking a few turns round the deck with her attentive companion, Mrs. Blair came to a halt by my chair.
    â€œFeeling better this morning?”
    I thanked her, and said I felt slightly more like a human being.
    â€œYou did look ill yesterday. Colonel Race and I decided that we should have the excitement of a funeral at sea—but you’ve disappointed us.”
    I laughed.
    â€œBeing up in the air has done me good.”
    â€œNothing like fresh air,” said Colonel Race, smiling.
    â€œBeing shut up in those stuffy cabins would kill anyone,” declared Mrs. Blair, dropping into a seat by my side and dismissing her companion with a little nod. “You’ve got an outside one, I hope?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œMy dear girl! Why don’t you change? There’s plenty of room. A lot of people got off at Madeira, and the boat’s very empty. Talk to the purser about it. He’s a nice little boy—he changed me into a beautiful cabin because I didn’t care for the one I’d got. You talk to him at lunchtime when you go down.”
    I shuddered.
    â€œI couldn’t move.”
    â€œDon’t be silly. Come and take a walk now with me.”
    She dimpled at me encouragingly. I felt very weak on my legs at first, but as we walked briskly up and down I began to feel a brighter and better being.
    After a turn or two, Colonel Race joined us again.
    â€œYou can see the Grand Peak of Tenerife from the other side.”
    â€œCan we? Can I get a photograph of it, do you think?”
    â€œNo—but that won’t deter you from snapping off at it.”
    Mrs. Blair laughed.
    â€œYou are unkind. Some of my photographs are very good.”
    â€œAbout three percent effective, I should say.”
    We all went round to the other side of the deck. There, glimmering white and snowy, enveloped in a delicate rose-coloured mist, rose the glistening pinnacle. I uttered an exclamation of delight. Mrs. Blair ran for her camera.
    Undeterred by Colonel Race’s sardonic comments, she snapped vigorously:
    â€œThere, that’s the end of the roll. Oh,” her tone changed to one of chagrin, “I’ve had the thing at ‘bulb’ all the time.”
    â€œI always like to see a child with a new toy,” murmured the Colonel.
    â€œHow horrid you are—but I’ve got another roll.”
    She produced it in triumph from the pocket of her sweater. A sudden roll of the boat upset her balance, and as she caught at the rail to steady herself the roll of films flashed over the side.
    â€œOh!” cried Mrs. Blair, comically dismayed. She leaned