the red-haired girl was down beside her and raised her head.
"It will be better to you if you eat," said one of the girls, and knelt beside her. Mrs. Crossley shuddered helplessly, but could not protest. The girl took an orange from her bundle, bit a large piece off one side, and held the remainder to Mrs. Crossley's lips. The steamer gave a very violent plunge, and the orange was jammed against her mouth, with the weight of a falling girl behind it. The juice trickled over her chin and down her neck. With a convulsive effort she turned her head away.
"It is cold that is on the lady," repeated the girl who had made this discovery first. Several shawls were stripped off, and in a minute or two she was swathed from neck to foot. A faint sense of warmth stole over her. It rained more heavily, and the spray swept across the deck in sheets. The red-haired girl stretched her shawl over her own head and Mrs. Crossley's, making a kind of tent. She stooped low and tucked the two ends of it under her. Then she pressed her rough hands on Mrs. Crossley's forehead.
After this came another period of miserable semi-consciousness. When she woke again it was to feel the tenting shawl suddenly snatched away. The red-haired girl had also succumbed to seasickness. Mrs. Crossley feared that her head would be again deposited on the deck. It was pitch-dark, and no one would see her or rescue her. She foresaw that
