dish or two the first night out. Can't give you any birds'-nest soup--"

A violent shudder passed over Percival, and he made a lightning
calculation of the distance from the table to the stairway. In doing so
he noted that it was a spiral stairway. Why in the name of heaven was
everything round? The port-holes, the revolving-chairs, the electric
fans, the plates, the olives--

At the thought of olives, all the pent-up possibilities became imminent
certainties. He rose dizzily, collided with the Chinaman bringing his
tea, and made blindly for the stairs. Half-way up, he staggered; each
step rose to meet him, then fell away from his foot the moment he
touched it. He grasped the baluster-rail, and stood wildly clinging,
like a shipwrecked sailor to a mast. He was dazed, dumb, paralyzed with
fear of the inevitable, and aware only of the burst of uncontrollable
laughter that had followed his abrupt retreat. Somebody from above held
out a succoring hand, at which he grasped frantically. Stumbling, half
blind, this unfortunate victim to atmospheric conditions was guided up
the remaining stops and out on deck, where he was anchored to the
railing and kindly left to his fate.




III

CONVALESCENCE


During the monotonous days that followed, the Honorable Percival