Maggie sighed and tucked the tattered newspaper advertisement back among her other papers, turning her attention to a tiny photograph of her parents, taken only months before their deaths. Mama, the daring, fair-haired aerialist, fearless and beautiful. Papa, the handsome lion tamer, in truth as gentle as a lamb. How fiercely they had loved each other and their daughter.

Struck by a loneliness that usually overtook her only by night, Maggie held the treasured photograph close to her heart for a moment, her eyes burning suspiciously. Then, firmly, she took herself in hand. Philip would be waiting for her in Sydney, and he would keep his promises too. She had only to keep her chin up and believe.

With a sniffle Maggie took out her tattered copy of The Taming of the Shrew and began to study her lines. It was a largely unnecessary task, considering that she’d long since mastered not only Bianca’s speeches but most of Kate’s and some of Petruchio’s as well, in an effort to fill the long days at sea, but one could not be too thorough when it came to such things.

When Tansy returned from the mess hall, fully an hour later, she brought Maggie’s pint ration of tea, along with the heel of a ham and a buttered slice of brown bread, neatly wrapped in a linen napkin that had doubtless been purloined from the first-class dining room.

“It ain’t as though I’ve changed me mind,” she said with a toss of her head as Maggie began to eat enthusiastically. “I still think Philip Briggs ain’t a patch on a good man like sweet Rory at Government ’ouse, but from ’ere on, I’ll keep me opinions to meself.”

Maggie’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at her friend; she’d believe that when cows sprouted wings, but she also knew an olive branch when she ate one. She finished the bread and ham quickly but took her time with the tea.

“Thank you,” she remembered to say when her friend began to look annoyed.

Tansy was instantly mollified. “Some of the passengers is goin’ ashore,” she confided, “flood or no flood. They’re sendin’ ’em in dinghies.”

Maggie had a sudden picture of Philip standing amid the stranded rabbits and the wreckage of Brisbane, trying to catch sight of her in one of the small boats being lowered from the ship and rowed to shore. As quick as that she was off her berth and scrambling back into her gray woolen dress.

“And where are you off to in such a rush?” Tansy demanded, hands on her hips.