As I sat up I noticed the cabin rolling. I got up, went to the window and looked out. It was a gray morning and there were whitecaps on the waves. I rang for Queenie, who staggered in looking rather pale.

“It ain’t half going up and down now, miss,” she said. “I hope I ain’t going to be sick. I don’t want to miss out on the food. It’s bloody good, even in the maids’ dining room.”

“I’ve been told the secret is to eat regular small meals, nothing too rich,” I said. “And if you feel sick go outside into the fresh air and focus on the horizon.”

“I’m feeling a bit Uncle Dick right now,” she said.

“Uncle Dick?”

“Rhyming slang for sick,” she said with a weak smile. She actually didn’t look at all well.

“I’ll manage to get myself ready,” I said. “Go out on deck and then have some tea and toast.”

“Very good, my lady,” she said, which was a good indication of how ill she was feeling.

I realized that I was not feeling at all queasy. I ate my breakfast with relish then went up on deck to explore. A few people were sitting on deck chairs with rugs over their knees. A steward was going around with a tray of hot consommé. A group of young men was bravely attempting a game of quoits. I recognized one of them as Tubby Halliday. He waved when he saw me.

“Come and join us,” he called. “It’s quite a challenge with the ship rolling around like billy-o.”

I hesitated but then decided why not. “All right.” I went over and was handed a quoit. The facts that I had never played the game before and couldn’t always control what my limbs did shouldn’t matter, should it? My first throw released from my hand at the wrong moment, resulting in a quoit that rolled along the deck and had to be chased down before it went over the side. My second went straight up in the air instead of toward the pin. “Whoops,” I said. The men were nice enough to put this down to the pitching of the ship. I managed to relax and soon the pitching and rolling was part of the fun. I even landed a quoit over the pin.

“Jolly good,” said a tall young man, clearly an American by the loud check of his jacket. “I’ll have to nab you as my partner in one of the deck tennis tournaments.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m not that good.”

“In case you haven’t noticed there aren’t too many women under forty on the ship,” he said with rather too much candor.

“Thank you. You make me feel so desirable,” I said, rather proud of finding a comeback for once.