"No," Ogle said. "I decided to keep below. I'm a little susceptible in a hurricane, and I took that precaution."
"'Hurricane'?" His friend stared at him. "My dear fellow, that wasn't a hurricane. It was only a gale. You've never been in a hurricane at sea."
"Why haven't I?"
"Because, if you had, you wouldn't call a northeast gale one. Why, the fourth time I crossed" He began a narrative of the sea, including a mathematical description of waves encountered and quotations from the solemn declarations of ships' officers; but the attention he obtained was scant, and presently he discontinued his account and turned, as his companions did, to look at the bridge table.
The lady for whom the three had been all along performing now made her voice audible for the first time in their hearing, a contralto voice of great richness. "Hyacinthe," she said, addressing the youth opposite her with a little sharpness, though nevertheless indulgently;—"c'est à toi, bébé."
"Madame Momoro!" the playwright exclaimed to himself, "Madame Momoro!" This was she whose musical name had sounded a melody to him even from the prosaic passenger list, setting him to build
