They came out at last upon the brow of the hill overlooking the
Common. The lamps glimmered along Tremont Street through an
opalescent haze which was stealing over the city from the bay.
Without question they went down the steps side by side. There was a
bench in a shadow and, without touching her, Tunis steered the
girl's steps toward it.
She sat down with an involuntary sigh of weariness. She had been on
her feet most of the time since eleven o'clock. She relaxed in
contact with the back of the bench, and he could see the contour of
her throat and chin thrown up in relief against the background of
shadow. The whole relaxed attitude of her slim body betrayed
exhaustion.
"I hope you will not blame me too severely," Tunis stammered.
"I don't blame you."
"I fear you will after you have taken time to think it over.
But--but perhaps there may be some way in which I can repair the
damage I have done."
She looked at him levelly, curiously.
"You are a seaman, are you not?"
"I'm Tunis Latham. I own the schooner _Seamew_, and command her. We
are going to run back and forth from Boston to the Cape--Cape Cod."
"Oh! I could scarcely fill a position on your schooner, Captain
Latham.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96