All was repose and calm.

The steward, noiseless-footed, expressionless, was a shadow, scarcely noticed, that drifted into the room on some service and drifted out again.
Not at once could I relax, and Miss West, serving my tea, laughed and said: "You look as if you had been seeing things.

The steward tells me a man has been overboard.

I fancy the cold water must have sobered him." I resented her unconcern.
"The man is a lunatic," I said.

"This ship is no place for him.