About thirty of the passengers have left the table for the deck.

I hope the fresh air will do them good.

We are now only a dozen in the dining room, including the captain, with whom Major Noltitz is quietly conversing.

Ephrinell and Miss Bluett seem to be thoroughly accustomed to these inevitable incidents of navigation.

The German baron drinks and eats as if he had taken up his quarters in some bier-halle at Munich, or Frankfort, holding his knife in his right hand, his fork in his left, and making up little heaps of meat, which he salts and peppers and covers with sauce, and then inserts under his hairy lip on the point of his knife.