When Mrs Tretheway at eight o’clock brought her a cup of tea, Troy felt as if the incidents of the night had been part of her dreams. At breakfast Mr Pollock and the Hewsons had a muttering session about Miss Rickerby-Carrick, Caley Bard openly asked Troy if she was keen on ‘Eine Kleine Nacht Musik’ and Mr Lazenby told him not to be naughty. As usual Dr Natouche took no part in this general, if furtive, conversation. Miss Rickerby-Carrick herself retired at mid-morning to a corner of the deck where, snuffling dreadfully and looking greatly perturbed, she kept up her diary.

The Zodiac cruised tranquilly through the morning. After luncheon Mr Lazenby occasioned some surprise by appearing in a bathing slip, blowing up an inflatable mattress and sunbathing on deck. ‘Once an Aussie, always an Aussie,’ he observed. Mr and Miss Hewson were so far encouraged as to change into Hawaiian shorts and floral tops. Dr Natouche had already appeared in immaculate blue linen and Caley Bard in conservative slacks and cotton shirt. Troy settled at a table in the saloon, finished her drawing and treated it to a lovely blush of aquarelle-crayons which she had bought for fun and because they were easy to carry. Each of the Signs now bore a crazy resemblance to the person she had assigned to it. Caley Bard’s slew-eyed glance looked out of the Scorpion’s head. Virgo was a kind of ethereal whiff of what Miss Rickerby-Carrick might have been. The Hewsons, stylisés, put their heads together for the Twins. Mr Lazenby, naked, blindfold and in elegant retreat, displayed the Scales. Something about the stalked eyes of the Crab quoted Mr Pollock’s rather prominent stare. Mrs Tretheway, translated into classic splendour, presented the Fish on a celestial platter. The Ram had a steering wheel between his hoofs and the boy, Tom—Aquarius, carried water in a ship’s bucket. Troy’s short dark locks tumbled about the brow of the Goat, while her husband glanced ironically through the Lion’s mask. The Bull, vainglorious, rode his motorbike. Splendidly alone, the dark Archer drew his bow. Troy was amused with her picture but sighed at the thought of doing the lettering.

The Hewsons, passing through the saloon, devoured by curiosity and swathed in tact, asked if they might have a peep. This led to everybody, except Dr Natouche, gathering round her.

‘Just see what you’ve done with children’s chalks and a drop of ink!’ Caley Bard exclaimed. ‘What magic!’ He gave a little crowing sound, burst out laughing and looked round at his fellow-passengers. ‘Do you see!’ he cried. ‘Do you see what she’s done?’

After some reflection they did, each recognizing the others more readily than him—or her self. It appeared that Troy had been lucky in three of her choices. The Hewsons were, in fact, twins and, by an extraordinarily felicitous chance, had been born under Gemini while Miss Rickerby-Carrick confessed, with mantling cheeks and conscious looks, as Caley Bard afterwards put it, to Virgo. She still seemed frightened and stared fixedly at Troy.