noon
Evanthia lay in her bunk all day . She knew perfectly well that she must remain within that room as one dead until the ship got outside . So she lay there , her eyes half closed , listening to the sounds of men and machinery , the sunlight screened by the yellow curtain tacked over the little round window , hour after hour all day , with a stoicism that had in it something oriental . It was about an hour past noon when there had come a smart thump on the door . She had got out and listened and the sharp whisper outside had reassured her . And when she had slipped the bolt and opened the door a few inches , Mr. Spokesly had thrust a glass of wine and a tin box of biscuits upon the wash-stand and pulled the door shut . And she had got back into the bunk and lay munching , and smiling , and sometimes kissing the emerald ring on her finger , the ring which was sailing out once more into the darkness .