“Good morning, Miss Forester! Did you have a pleasant sleep?”
The woman spoke to me directly the stewardess had gone. It seemed to be so silly to persist in saying nothing, so I returned her good morning. As I sipped the tea I wondered if I had misjudged her. Clearly, as I have already said, my throat was not yet cut, and on the morrow we should reach New York. I got up first she seemed to be willing to give way to me in everything. At the breakfast-table I found that everyone was talking about how soon we were to land. Apparently everyone was in the highest spirits, inclined to congratulate each other on the excellent crossing they had had. The pervading air of cheerfulness was a little jarred when my friendly steward leaned over to inform me that Mr. Thompson, so far from being better,
