A moment later it surfaced. It would float for some time, Augusta thought. The pain in her back was excruciating, and she longed to lie down, but she stayed at the rail, watching the trunk bobbing on the swell. Then it disappeared from sight.
She heard a male voice beside her. "I thought I heard someone crying for help," it said worriedly.
Augusta composed herself rapidly and turned to see a polite young man in a silk dressing gown and a scarf. "It was me," she told him, forcing a smile. "I had a nightmare and woke myself up shouting. I came out here to clear my head."
"Ah. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Quite sure. You're very kind."
"Well. Good night, then."
"Good night."
He went back into his cabin.
Augusta looked down at the sea. In a moment she would stagger to her bed, but she wanted to look at the sea a little longer. The trunk would fill up slowly, she thought, as water squirted in through the narrow gaps. The level would rise up Micky's body inch by inch as he fought to open the trunk. When it covered his nose and mouth he would hold his breath for as long as he could. But in the end he would give a great involuntary gasp, and the cold salty sea would pour into his mouth and down his throat, filling his lungs. He would squirm and fight for a little longer, racked by pain and terror; and then his movements would become feeble and stop, everything would slowly turn black, and he would die.
Section 6
HUGH WAS DESPERATELY WEARY when at last his train pulled into Chingford station and he got off. Although he was looking forward to his bed, he stopped on the bridge over the line, at the spot where Micky had shot Tonio that morning. He took off his hat and stood there for a minute, bareheaded in the snow, remembering his friend as a boy and a man. Then he walked on.
