She romanticized, imagining a life on the High Seas. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. This year—I’ve got it badly.
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