It was twenty-five minutes past eight! Yet he distinctly remembered eight bells being struck while Coke was telling him from the bridge to give the anchor thirty-five fathoms of cable.

Was it possible that they had gone through so much during those few minutes?
If he were really light-headed, then sun and clouds and watch were conspiring to keep him so.
Iris, chilled by his stern tone, nevertheless noted his action.

Still unable to concentrate her thoughts on more than one topic, and that to the exclusion of all else, she asked the time.

He told her.

He awaited some expression of surprise on her part, provided it were, indeed, true that only twenty-five minutes had sped since the _Andromeda_ was quietly preparing to drop anchor off South Point.