On all sides were silent, beaten people who asked no questions, for they were afraid of the answers.

Sick, dazed, haggard, they stared hopelessly, drearily out over the water; for all that their faces revealed the end was near at hand and they cared but little.

They had been through one hell; death could bring nothing worse.
Here and there a stout-hearted optimist appeared among them, but his very cheerfulness seemed to offend.

They did not want to hear his silly, stupid predictions that something was "sure to turn up." They knew that water was coming into the hold; they knew that there were but four lifeboats and seven hundred men and women; they knew that the Doraine was going down in a very few hours; they knew that the Captain had given up all hope of rescue.

Nothing could "turn up" now but death.
Madame Obosky had taken a great fancy to Algernon Adonis Percival, and for a most peculiar reason.