I should have tried to row you ashore as you said." "Never mind me; a man must meet his fate some day.

Do not think of me.

But I can't keep her head on much longer.

You had better say your prayers." Beatrice bent forward till her head was quite near his own.

The wind had blown some of her hair loose, and though he did not seem to notice it at the time, he remembered afterwards that a lock of it struck him on the face.
"I cannot pray," she said; "I have nothing to pray to.