He shook his head, still looking at the breasts. He had never known a woman with nipples like hers. "I'm not sure."

"Ten thousand?"

"More."

"Twenty?"

"About sixty, so they say."

He heard her whisper something, then louder. "Sixty thousand in one day?" 

"Yes."

She drew the sheet over her shoulders and turned on her side away from him. "Sixty thousand in one day?"

"Margaretha."

"And now they're trying to say it was all my fault, aren't they? I tipped off the Hun."

"Not really."

"Yes they are. Sixty thousand soldiers shot in one day, and it's all my fault."

"Margaretha, I really don't believe that anyone is seriously—"

"Oh, but you told me they were serious. And I'm sure Charles Dunbar is serious. He's very serious, and what's more, he's very pleased that he finally has something to be serious about."

A storm broke that night, a black gale that rose to a furious pitch within the space of a few hours and brought still more memories of the war. By morning half the passengers were too seasick to leave their cabins, and there were a number of nasty accidents in the passageways. Gray awoke to a messy breakfast of coffee and a melon. Later he found Zelle in the lounge, wedged into an armchair with her collection of Indonesian fables.

"I had no idea that a ship this size could pitch like this," she said.

"At least you're not ill."

Chandeliers were swaying above stained tablecloths.

"And what about you?" she said. "I heard you prowling around like a cat in the night. You couldn't have slept more than an hour."

"I read, from that book of yours. Who's Durga?"

A porter appeared, bracing himself in the doorway for a moment, then lurching down the corridor.

"It's just an old myth, Nicky. Durga was the wife of Siva."

"And not a particularly pleasant sort, I take it."

"She drank blood and ate flesh." She said it with only the hint of a smile. "I thought she might make a useful guardian angel."

"Margaretha, there's nothing to be worried about. Dunbar hasn't got a real case against you—"

"Does he need a case? With all the stupid rumors." Her eyes were on those swinging chandeliers. "I've been sensing her presence, you know. That's why I can tell this is going to turn out badly . . . because I've been sensing her presence more and more as the days go by."

"Margaretha, listen to me."

"You think I'm joking, don't you? Well, it's true. I feel her all around me—Durga. We Easterners are psychic, didn't you know that? Anyway, nothing can be the same again. The war has seen to that. I mean, look at you . . . you're not the same at all. You're lean and grim. Tell me, Nicky, did you kill a lot of men?"

"Come on, let me take you up on deck."