After four days, he had gotten startled glances from some of the women but had made little progress. The reasons were relatively clear. He was at a disadvantage to any beau who didn’t live in an airless room with sick dogs.

Boy seemed to mend gradually, and regained an interest in food, but Nanette’s expression took on a profound ennui. Her eyes were glassy. She drank water at first, but refused all meals. When he encouraged her to walk on deck, her gait was unsteady; her ears went back and she shivered, even when the sunlight bathed the forecastle, and the girls were playing badminton. Leland considered joining them, but each time he brought his dog back to the sleep-in closet, he decided to stay with her instead.

At the end of the week, Nanette no longer wanted to leave the cabin. Her brother liked to be taken out and jogged among the other passengers, and he returned in high spirits that Leland hoped could be transferred to Nanette. She seemed to stop sleeping, too, hanging her snout over the edge of the cot instead, and staring at the bulkhead.

He took to brushing them both for long minutes, and talking to them as if they could understand him. He had an idea: now that they were on the boat, the war was over, they were safe, and life could actually begin. He started to say the word “love” aloud. “I love you, Nanette. I love you, Boy.”

Harry had encouraged him to reason with the dogs, but now Leland was just lonely, and so he told them about the lighthouse, and the bungalow on the beach, and what Hollywood would be like, and their famous grandfather. “The truth is, I always wanted him to come see us. I loved him, but I didn’t know him at all. I used to hope that was enough, loving him like that. I used to think, if only I was good enough, if only I wanted it enough …” And he stopped here, for he thought he was depressing the dogs.

Thirteen days into the trip, Nanette took a little solid food, but no more than a mouthful, as if she was trying to please Leland in some way but had run out of opportunities. Her hair was losing its luster. That afternoon, Leland went alone to the mess, just to stand by himself for a few moments outside the room; he was beginning to worry how this would end. A Hello Girl walked up and asked him what he was thinking, and he said, “Not much,” and apologized and went back to his supply closet.

Around sunset, Leland lay back down on the cot and stretched Nanette out next to him. She didn’t resist, and her expression was slack, as if she was concentrating elsewhere, a sailor staring to the horizon line.