The chair almost fitted.
Felix considered that an encouraging result. Merrit Shaw considered the man beneath it.
“Stop.”
The porter held the lowering line. The padded backrest hung diagonally across the hatch. Beneath it, a sailor had one foot on the ladder and no clear way out if the sling slipped.
“Up again,” Merrit said.
The chair returned to the quay.
Felix examined its removable armrest.
“If I take this off—”
