Ahead the sea was empty; gray water rolled beneath low and ragged clouds.

Spray flew about the plunging bows, and the tug rolled uneasily.

Lister turned and left the bridge, but stopped for a few moments at the engine-room door.

Barbara had stood just opposite, where the iron funnel-stay ran down.

Her rich furs gave her girlish figure a touch of dignity, the color was in her face, and her eyes shone.
Lister knew the picture would haunt him, and he would come to the engine door to recapture it when he needed bracing.