The look she gave me was enough.
"You must stand up," I repeated, firmly.

"Either your--this gentleman--must get out, as I tell him to, or I shall have to carry you to my skiff.

We haven't any time to spare." She gazed at me in blank astonishment.

Then the color flamed in her cheeks and her eyes flashed.
"We don't wish your help," she said, icily.
"I'm sorry, but that makes no difference.

I--" Victor whirled on me, the oar in his hands.