The Ghost by Arnold Bennet Chapter 10 Page 8

Queerly enough, I had ceased to puzzle myself with trying to discover how the disaster had been brought about. I honestly made up my mind that we were sinking, and that was sufficient.

“What cursed ill-luck!” I murmured philosophically.

I thought of Rosa, with whom I was to have breakfasted on the morrow, whose jewels I was carrying, whose behest it had been my pleasure to obey. At that moment she seemed to me in my mind’s eye more beautiful, of a more exquisite charm, than ever before. “Am I going to lose her?” I murmured. And then: “What a sensation there’ll be in the papers if this ship does go down!” My brain flitted from point to point in a quick agitation. I decided suddenly that the captain and crew must be a set of nincompoops, who