Nor could the young shipmaster give much time to looking up hands.
He had freight ready for his return trip. It must be got aboard,
stowed properly, and advantage taken of the tide and a fair wind to
get back to the Cape. He had not been in the habit of going up into
the city at all of late. If that girl behind the lace counter of
Hoskin & Marl's had expected to see Tunis Latham again, she had been
disappointed. Her warm invitation to him to call on her--possibly to
take her again to lunch--had borne only Dead Sea fruit. He had
accepted her decision regarding the Balls and Cape Cod as final and
irrevocable. At least, he had had no intention of ever going back
and discussing the suggestion again.
The possibility of the real Ida May Bostwick changing her mind and
reconsidering her refusal to communicate with the Balls or visit
Wreckers' Head never once entered Tunis' mind, if it had Sheila
Macklin's. He had seen how scornfully the cheap little shop-girl had
refused the kind offer extended to her by her old relatives. He
could not have imagined her thinking of the old people and their
home and Big Wreck Cove in any different way.
He was quite right in this. Ida May Bostwick never would have looked
upon these several matters differently.
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