“I left the wreck in the last boat,” Gorham told me. “It was a very dark and stormy morning and the sea ran before the gale in great splashes of a kind of vivid, intense white. To the east of us the California coast rose like a shadow out of the spume and spindrift. And that woman sat beside me on the thwart and clutched my arm with a steady, relentless strength which affected me more than if she had screamed.” “I never could understand that affair,” I said. “Harry Owen was not only a seaman of ability and experience, but the last man in the world to----”…
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