But when they helped her to her feet she was very shaky. Dr Natouche went backwards before her down the companion-way and Caley Bard came behind. The two women followed making horrified comments.

In the passage her knees gave way. Dr Natouche carried her into her cabin and put her on her bunk as deftly as if she was a child. The others crowded in the doorway.

‘I’m all right,’ she kept repeating. ‘It’s ridiculous, all this. No—please.’

He covered her with the cherry-red blanket and said to Mrs Tretheway: ‘A hot-water bottle and tea would not be amiss.’

The ladies bustled away in confusion. He stooped his great body over Troy: ‘You’re shocked, Mrs Alleyn. I hope you will let me advise you.’

Troy began to tell them what she had seen. She took a firm hold of herself and spoke lucidly and slowly as if they were stupid men.

‘You must tell the police,’ Troy said. ‘At once. At once.’

Caley Bard said: ‘Yes, of course. I’m sure the Skipper will know what to do.’

‘Tell him. It mustn’t be—lost—it mustn’t be—’ she clenched her hands under the blanket. ‘Superintendent Tillottson at Tollardwark. Tell the Skipper.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ Dr Natouche offered and Caley Bard said: ‘There now! Don’t fuss. And do, like a good girl, stop bossing.’

Troy caught the familiar bantering tone and was comforted by it. She and Bard exchanged pallid grins.

‘I’ll be off,’ he said.

Dr Natouche said: ‘And I. I may be wanted. I think you should stay where you are, Mrs Alleyn.’

He had moved away when Troy, to her own astonishment, heard herself say. ‘Dr Natouche!’ and when he turned with his calmly polite air, ‘I—I should like to consult you, please, when you are free. Professionally.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘In the meantime these ladies will take care of you.’

They did. They ministered with hot-water bottles and with scalding tea. Troy only now realized that she was shivering like a puppy.

Miss Hewson was full of consolatory phrases and horrified speculation.

‘Gee,’ she gabbled, ‘isn’t this just awful? That poor girl and all of us asleep in our beds. What do you figure, Mrs Tretheway? She was kind of sudden in her reflexes wasn’t she? Now, could it add up this way? She was upset by this news about her girlfriend and she got up and dressed and packed her grip and wrote her little note on the newspaper and lit off for for wherever she fixed to meet up with her friends and in the dark she—’

Miss Hewson stopped as if jerked to a halt by her listeners’ incredulity.

‘Well—gee—well, maybe not,’ she said. ‘OK, OK. Maybe not.’