She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. He resumed his listening. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. I've seen many cases like it. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. "I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain.
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