Kinnon, from the operating-table, faced the intruder. The tones of his voice as he spoke carried a tacit reproof to his superior, a reproof for the boisterous note that had been thrust upon their quiet and orderly talk.
"This woman is my wife!"
"Your what?" cried the captain.
"This woman is my wife!" repeated the operator, without so much as a glance at the panting girl's colourless face. "As you may have the discernment to discover, she is a civilised being, and brutality has no particular fascination for her!"
"And what's all that to do with it?" demanded the captain, warming up to a scene from which he could usually wring his sardonic delights.
"It has this to do with it—that she is making this trip as a passenger. I mention the fact because you may see her in this cabin again, at many times, and at hours quite as unusual as the present."
"I will, will I?" retorted the other.
"You will! And what's more, so long as I do my duty by this ship, and by my company, her presence here calls for no insolence, either official or unofficial!"
"You be damned!" roared the master of the ship, aghast at such effrontery.
