now! And you take his side, too; oh! I have no patience with any of you - except poor Mr. Ready in his berth.”
“But you are not going.”
“Indeed I am. I am tired of you all.”
And she was gone with angry tears for which I blamed myself as I fell to pacing the weather side of the poop - and so often afterwards! So often, and with such unavailing bittertness !
Senhor Santos and the captain were in conversation by the weather rail. I fancied poor old Harris eyed me with suspicion, and I wished he
being a complete coxcomb, I had no intention of courting a second.
Yet, when I write of Eva Denison, I am like to let my pen outrun my tale. I lay the pen down, and a hundred of her sayings ring in my ears, with my own contradictious comments, that I was doomed so soon to repent; a hundred visions