Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. It isn't friendly as I thought it would be. I can’t even make myself care. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage.
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