Nurse Jennings stood staring into the woman's eyes. Her first impulse was to ring the bell for the Steward and send for the ship's doctor. Sudden insanity, the result of acute hysteria, was not uncommon in women leading sedentary lives who had gone through a heavy strain, and the troubles of this poor Sister had, she saw, unseated her reason. "Don't talk so--calm yourself. No one is seeking you. You ought to lie down. Come--" "Yes, I know you think I am crazy--I am crazy--crazy from a horrible fear that stares me in the face--from a spectre that--" "Sister, you MUST lie down! I'll ring for the Doctor and he--" Sister Teresa sprang forward and caught the hand of the Nurse before it touched the bell. "Stop! STOP!--or all will be lost! I am not a Sister--I am the scene-painter--the father of that girl! See!" He threw back his hood, uncovering his head and exposed his short-cropped hair. Nurse Jennings turned quickly and looked her companion searchingly in the face. The surprise had been so great that for an instant her breath left her. Then slowly the whole situation rushed over and upon her. This man had made use of her privacy--had imposed upon her--tricked her. "And you--you have dared to come into this room, making me believe you were a woman--and lied to me about your Hour of Silence and all the--" "It was the only way I could be safe. You and everybody else would detect me if I did not shave and fix up my face. You said a minute ago the dark rings had gone from my eyes--it is this paint-box that did it. Think of what it would mean to me to be taken--and my little girl! Don't--don't judge me wrongly. When I get to New York I promise never to see you again--no one will ever know. If you had been my own sister I could not have treated you with more respect since I have been in the room. I will do anything you wish--to-night I will sleep on the floor--anything, if--" "To-night! Not another hour will you stay here. I will go to the Purser at once and--" "You mean to turn me out?" "Yes." "Oh, merciful God! Don't! Listen--you MUST listen. Let me stay! What difference should it make to you. You have nursed hundreds of men. You have saved many lives. Save mine--give me back my little girl! She can come to me in Quebec and then we can get away somewhere in America and be safe. I can still pass as a Sister and she as a child in my charge until I can find some place where I can throw off my disguise. See how good the real Sisters are to me; they do not condemn me. Here is a letter from the Mother Superior in Paris to the Mother Superior of a convent in Quebec. It is not forged--it is genuine. If they believe in me, why cannot you? Let me stay here, and you stay, too. You would if you could see my child." The sound of a heavy step was heard outside in the corridor. Then came a quick, commanding voice: "Miss Jennings, open the door, please."