He risked
this contumely cheerfully and with a reckless disregard for what
might arise through the plans they had made while sitting beside
each other on that bench on Boston Common.
He would not admit the point of his own risk. He would not consider
it when they had talked, only the night before, on the deck of the
schooner. He scouted every possibility of any harm coming to him
through their attempt to replace the girl in a firm niche in society
and give the Cap'n Ira Balls what they needed of companionship and
care.
The girl sat up in the berth and let her bare legs dangle a moment
before dropping to the rug. In her bare feet she padded to the
photograph of Captain Randall Latham's young wife.
The girl stood before the old photograph, her hands clasped, her
gaze raised to the pictured face, as a votary might stand before the
Madonna. There were tears in the girl's violet eyes. At that moment
she was uplifted, carried out of herself by the wealth of feeling in
her heart. Her lips moved.
"I promise," she said softly, "I promise you that I will never do
anything that will hurt him. I promise you that I will never let him
do anything that may harm him. He has given me my chance.
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