They had simply forgotten to allow a third for friction.
The three friends kept profound silence for some time.

Breakfast now was the last thing thought of.

Barbican, with teeth grating, fingers clutching, and eye-brows closely contracting, gazed grimly through the window.

The Captain, as a last resource, once more examined his calculations, earnestly hoping to find a figure wrong.

Ardan could neither sit, stand nor lie still for a second, though he tried all three.