She was projected with considerable violence against the
waiting figure of R. Schmidt, who had hastily braced himself for the
impact of the slender body in the thick sea-ulster. She uttered an
excited little shriek as she came bang up against him and found his
ready arms closing about her shoulders.
"Oh, goodness!" she gasped, with what little breath she had left, and
then began to laugh as she freed herself in confusion--a very pretty
confusion he recalled later on, after he had recovered to some extent
from the effects of an exceedingly severe bump on the back of his
head. "How awkward!"
"Not at all," he proclaimed, retaining a grip on one of her arms
until the ship showed some signs of resuming its way eastward instead
of downward.
"I am sure it must have hurt dreadfully," she cried. "Nothing hurts
worse than a bump. It seemed as though you must have splintered the
wall."
"I have a singularly hard head," said he, and forthwith felt of the
back of it.
"Will you please stand ready to receive boarders? My maid is
following me, poor thing, and I can't afford to have her smashed to
pieces.
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