"Get a chair, Austin. She still could not muster the strength to leave. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Wood to the pump. “Lucy? Ms. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me. It isn’t as though I haven’t done well. She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. She romanticized, imagining a life on the High Seas. We sha’n’t hang up on any misunderstanding. And from that point they went on to a thoroughly embittering wrangle. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums.
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