‘It would be a blessed thing,’ said Mrs. Lee, ‘for most of them, perhaps for all of them, if they had left their memories behind them. What have they to remember? Years of toil, of famine, of hardship, years of heart-breaking, struggles for what?--for this! How big is this world!’ she exclaimed, casting her eyes round the sea, ‘yet there is no room for these people in it. How abundant are the goodly fruits of the earth! And yet those people there represent hundreds and thousands who cannot find a root in all the soil to provide a meal for themselves and the children. Yet though we all say there is something wrong, who is to set it right? Do you observe how that strange, fierce, dark woman is staring at you?’ ‘Yes. She is one of two wild-looking women who pressed forward to view me when I came on board.’ ‘What is her nation?’ exclaimed Mrs. Lee. ‘She looks like a gipsy.’ The woman sat upon the corner of the great square of hatch within easy distance of the sight. Her complexion was tawny, her nose flat. Thick rings, apparently of silver, trembled in her ears, and her head was covered with a sort of red hood. The stare of her gleaming black eyes was fierce and fixed. I had observed her without giving her close attention, but now that my mind was directed to her, her unwinking fiery gaze made me feel uneasy. ‘Let us walk,’ said Mrs. Lee. We turned our faces towards the stern of the ship and paced the deck, but every time we approached the edge of the poop I encountered the cat-like stare of the toad-coloured woman’s eyeballs.