"Weigh anchor, Van!" he shouted to the skipper, "and consult your despatches. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display.
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