Murmuring very low
in the rhythmical tone of one oppressed by the air, Mrs. Flushing began
to wonder where they were to sleep, for they could not sleep downstairs,
they could not sleep in a doghole smelling of oil, they could not sleep
on deck, they could not sleep--She yawned profoundly. It was as Helen
had foreseen; the question of nakedness had risen already, although they
were half asleep, and almost invisible to each other. With St. John's
help she stretched an awning, and persuaded Mrs. Flushing that she could
take off her clothes behind this, and that no one would notice if by
chance some part of her which had been concealed for forty-five years
was laid bare to the human eye. Mattresses were thrown down, rugs
provided, and the three women lay near each other in the soft open air.
The gentlemen, having smoked a certain number of cigarettes, dropped
the glowing ends into the river, and looked for a time at the ripples
wrinkling the black water beneath them, undressed too, and lay down at
the other end of the boat. They were very tired, and curtained from each
other by the darkness. The light from one lantern fell upon a few ropes,
a few planks of the deck, and the rail of the boat, but beyond that
there was unbroken darkness, no light reached their faces, or the trees
which were massed on the sides of the river.
Soon Wilfrid Flushing slept, and Hirst slept.
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