Chapter IV
THE “QUEER” GIRL
Convinced that he could not sleep, Miller lay brooding over Anderson’s story, sympathising under the stress of this night more and more with Anderson and Molly. Towards morning, however, he must have dropped off, for, when he opened his eyes, the low sun was shining through the port. The charnel house atmosphere had been dissipated. The Dart lay on an even keel. Tony was up. The welcome odour of coffee entered the stateroom.
Slipping on his bathrobe. Miller hurried to the deck, jumped overboard, and fought that racing tide until it was on the point of vanquishing him.
When he was dressed Tony brought him his coffee. He sat on deck sipping it, calmly appraising his surroundings, almost gleefully aware of the retreat of last night’s fancies.
He could see t
