She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. As soon as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. White assented. The girl’s eyes never left his face.
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