"I know," said Suzee tranquilly; "and I shall be so happy when it starts."
I pushed her aside and got up from the berth. The cabin window stood wide open. In the position the ship was it was easy to come in and out through it from the quay. She must have entered that way.
"You must go," I said between my teeth. I was afraid of myself. Overhead I heard movements and clanking chains and shuffling feet. Our ship was leaving, and she was still on board with me.
"Go out of that window now, instantly, or I shall put you out."
"You will not, Treevor," beginning to cry; "you won't be so unkind. I only want to stay with you; let me stay."
She was half-sitting on the edge of my berth, clinging to it with both hands. She was pale with an ivory pallor, her breasts rose in sobs under the transparent muslin of her vest.
The ship gave a great heave under our feet.
The blood beat so in my head and round my eyes I could hardly see her. I moved to her, clinging to one blind object. I bent over her and lifted her up. She was like a doll in weight. She was nothing to me.
As she realised my intention she seemed to turn into a wild animal in my arms. She bit and tore at my wrists, and scratched my face with her long sharp nails.
The ship was moving now and I was desperate.
I walked with her to the window and put her feet over the ledge.
We neither of us spoke a word. She clung to my neck so I thought she must overbalance me and drag me through with her.
With all my force I pushed her outwards and away from me. Her hands broke from my neck and scratched down my face till the blood ran from it.
"Don't struggle so," I warned her; "you will drop into the sea if you do." For a blue crack opened already between the moving ship and the quay.
Words were useless. She bit and struggled and clung to me like a cat mad with fear and rage.
With an effort I leant forward and half threw, half dropped her on the woodwork. She fell there with a gasping cry, and I drew the window to and shut it.
The ship rose and fell now and the blue water gleamed in an ever-widening track between its side and the quay.
I leant against the window glass and watched her through it. She had struggled to her knees and now knelt there weeping and stretching out little ivory tinted hands to the departing ship. My own eyes were full, and only through a mist could I see her kneeling there, a brilliant spot of colour in dazzling light on the deserted quay.