They exchanged places and he showed her how to hold the sculls.
"You'll do very well.

You can row as slowly as you like.

He's alive; I can feel him move! Poor little chap! Sorry to trouble you, Miss Falconer, but the only chance of saving him is to keep him warm." She was silent far a moment, then she glanced at him.
"You're fond of dogs ?" "Why, of course," he answered.

"Aren't you ?" "Y-es; but I don't think I'd risk pneumonia for one.

You were feverishly hot just now, and that little beast must be stone cold; you'll get bronchitis or something, Mr.Orme." "Not I!" he laughed, almost scornfully.