Mr. Thomas flushed, and murmured: “I say, I say!” much in the character of the aristocratic Englishman he had once portrayed on the road. “I’m not talking to you!” Rice shut him off curtly. “I will not have Guy insulted!” Mrs. Breese blazed, and then suddenly she melted. “Oh, Gordon, I don’t understand you. I thought you were really a friend--a true friend.” “That’s what I’m trying to be,” said Rice, and his tones grew softer, too. He swallowed uncomfortably. “You know I wish you all the happiness in the world, Dora. I always have. But you don’t want to do this thing. After all, there are the children----” “I’ve already told the Countess,” Mrs. Breese protested. Mrs. Breese always granted the patent of nobility to her daughter, who had divorced an improvident Baltic nobleman. “And I’ve told Henry. Of course, Henry was a little upset. He’s jealous, naturally. But he’ll get over it. Henry is a dear boy.” “I’ve just spoken to him,” said Rice, “and I don’t agree with you. You know how he felt in college during the trial. He’s had to go through a lot. You know how sensitive he is. He’s fond of his father, just as fond as he is of you. But he was loyal to you. Now if you want to have the newspapers barking again, as I suppose you do, that’s your look-out. I just want to tell you that I’m against it, and I’ll do everything in the world to stop you from throwing your life away.” Mrs. Breese did not answer but turned to me. “Will you go right into the radio room and wireless all the newspapers ... and I do wish you had taken notes.” “You send that story and you’ll be accountable to me,” Rice moved to block my path. “No use threatening me,” I protested. “I’m in Mrs. Breese’s employ and I’ve got to follow orders.” She smiled triumphantly at him. “But I don’t have to, if I resign. So, Mrs. Breese, if you don’t mind, I’ll leave the boat in Havana. I quite agree with Mr. Rice. I don’t think I can be of any further use to you.” Mrs. Breese was looking daggers at me. I felt a glow of self-righteousness. After all, I was not in the Guy Thomas class of leeches. Then, just as I had started out of the room there came the sound of excited voices, and to cap them, a shrill wailing scream that startled us all. I leaped through the door and to the deck. Rice was close behind me, and even Thomas moved more quickly than ever before. An excited sailor was hurling a life belt into the water. I saw the Countess clutching the rail, her face contorted with excitement and horror. “What’s happened?” I asked the first sailor I could stop. But I needed no answer. As my eyes explored the water, I could discern the slim figure of Henry Breese engulfed in a white-capped wave. He was floating. As the life lines were thrown at him, he made no move to catch at them. Someone shouted. Someone screamed.