She hates
pain. Sickness troubles her. Shall I be able to use my hand very soon,
monsieur?"
There was a wistful look in her eyes, and guessing why it was there, I
said: "Yes, soon, I hope--in a few days, no doubt."
Her face lighted up, and she said: "Madame likes about her people who are
happy and well." Then, as if she might have said too much, she hurriedly
added: "But she is very kind;" and, stooping down quickly, her face
whitening with the effort, she caught up the broken glass and threw it
through the port-hole into the sea.
A half-hour later I went on deck, and found Mrs. Falchion comfortably
seated in her deck-chair. I brought a stool over, and sat down beside
her. To this hour the quickness with which I got upon friendly terms with
her astonishes me.
"Justine is better?" she said, and her hand made a slight motion of
disgust.
"Yes. She was not dangerously hurt, of course."
"Let us change the subject, please. They are going to have a fancy-dress
ball on board, I believe, before we get to Aden. How tiresome! Isn't it a
little affectation on the part of the stage-struck committee? Isn't
it--inconsequent?"
"That depends," I said vaguely, inviting a question.
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