He was heard from the distance in a tone of injured innocence reporting
that the berthing master was alongside and that he wanted to move the
ship into the basin before the crew came on board.
His captain growled "Well, let him," and waved away the ulcerated and
pathetic soul behind these prominent eyes which lingered on the offensive
woman while the mate backed out slowly. Anthony turned to Flora.
"You could not have meant it. You are as straight as they make them."
"I am trying to be."
"Then don't joke in that way. Think of what would become of--me."
"Oh yes. I forgot. No, I didn't mean it. It wasn't a joke. It was
forgetfulness. You wouldn't have been wronged. I couldn't have gone.
I--I am too tired."
He saw she was swaying where she stood and restrained himself violently
from taking her into his arms, his frame trembling with fear as though he
had been tempted to an act of unparalleled treachery. He stepped aside
and lowering his eyes pointed to the door of the stern-cabin. It was
only after she passed by him that he looked up and thus he did not see
the angry glance she gave him before she moved on.
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