Her friends called her Billie. He did not blame them. It was a delightful name and suited her to perfection. He practised it a few times. “Billie ... Billie ... Billie....” It certainly ran pleasantly off the tongue. “Billie Bennett.” Very musical. “Billie Marlowe.” Still better. “We noticed among those present the charming and popular Mrs. ‘Billie’ Marlowe....” A consuming desire came over him to talk about the girl to someone. Obviously indicated as the party of the second part was Eustace Hignett. If Eustace was still capable of speech—and after all the boat was hardly rolling at all—he would enjoy a further chat about his ruined life. Besides, he had another reason for seeking Eustace’s society. As a man who had been actually engaged to marry this supreme girl, Eustace Hignett had an attraction for Sam akin to that of some great public monument. He had become a sort of shrine. He had taken on a glamour. Sam entered the state-room almost reverentially, with something of the emotions of a boy going into his first dime museum. The exhibit was lying on his back, staring at the roof of the berth. By lying absolutely still and forcing himself to think of purely inland scenes and objects, he had contrived to reduce the green in his complexion to a mere tinge. But it would be paltering with the truth to say that he felt debonair. He received Sam with a wan austerity. “Sit down!” he said. “Don’t stand there swaying like that. I can’t bear it.” “Why, we aren’t out of the harbour yet. Surely you aren’t going to be sea-sick already.” “I can issue no positive guarantee. Perhaps if I can keep my mind off it.... I have had good results for the last ten minutes by thinking steadily of the Sahara. There,” said Eustace Hignett with enthusiasm, “is a place for you! That is something like a spot. Miles and miles of sand and not a drop of water anywhere!” Sam sat down on the lounge. “You’re quite right. The great thing is to concentrate your mind on other topics. Why not, for instance, tell me some more about your unfortunate affair with that girl—Billie Bennett I think you said her name was.” “Wilhelmina Bennett. Where on earth did you get the idea that her name was Billie?” “I had a notion that girls called Wilhelmina were sometimes Billie to their friends.” “I never called her anything but Wilhelmina. But I really cannot talk about it. The recollection tortures me.” “That’s just what you want. It’s the counter-irritation principle. Persevere, and you’ll soon forget that you’re on board ship at all.” “There’s something in that,” admitted Eustace reflectively. “It’s very good of you to be so sympathetic and interested.” “My dear fellow ... anything that I can do ... where did you meet her first, for instance?” “At a dinner....” Eustace Hignett broke off abruptly. He had a good memory and he had just recollected the fish they had served at that dinner—a flabby and exhausted looking fish half sunk beneath the surface of a thick white sauce.