“Is this herself?” she said in an Irish brogue.

Mrs. Donahue waved impatiently at her and told her to bring two hot whiskies and a towel. When the girl came back with them, Mrs. Donahue handed me the towel and a whiskey and took the other for herself. She sat down and sighed.

“Such a day!” she said.

She held her glass up to me. “Sláinte,” she said, “and welcome ye are, Nora Sweeney.”

I gave her a faint smile and sipped the whiskey, letting her talk away, hardly hearing what she was saying. Despite being soaked from the rain, I was covered in sweat. I didn’t know if it was from the blazing fire, or the whiskey, or fear. I looked around the enormous room. The armchairs and sofa were slightly faded, as was the thick, patterned carpet. On the walls, paintings of what looked like Irish landscapes were lit from above by small lamps casting them in a golden glow. The room offered comfort rather than stiff formality. And when my eyes lit on the far wall, where floor-to-ceiling bookcases held volumes and volumes of books, tears pricked my eyes, as if I had just met some long-lost friends.

Mrs. Donahue saw the tears and stood up. “Come on now, child. Let’s see ye up to bed. Ye’ve had a terrible experience.” She made a sign of the cross. “How ye lived through it, I’ll never know. But ye are here now, safe and sound.”

I allowed her to escort me up a curved staircase and into a small room at the front of the landing.

“I’ll have Kathleen bring up a hot-water bottle to warm the bed, and find one of the mistress’s nightgowns, God rest her soul. Tomorrow I’ll have her go out and buy some clothes for ye. I think I can guess your size. You’ll be needing underwear and dresses and boots, and a warm coat. ’Tis been chilly for April.”

Later, after the maid had returned with a nightgown and placed the hot-water bottle between the sheets, I crawled gratefully under the covers. The feeling of being in a dream returned. I closed my eyes tight and fell into it. The dream was gentle at first, but then images began to collide with one another: sitting in a boat, freezing waves splashing over me; Nora’s panicked face when she realized the ship was going to sink; the image of her body falling into the water. I awoke in a sweat. I lay awake until dawn, terrified the dream would return. But as light broke through the bedroom window, I could stay awake no longer and let sleep wash over me.