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The Crusade of the Excelsior by Bret Harte
page 28 of 274 (10%)
The young girl rose indignantly.

"This is really too shameful! Who dare talk like that?"

Brace colored quickly.

"Who? Why, everybody," he stammered, for a moment abandoning his
attitude of individual acumen; "it's the talk of the ship."

"Is it? And before they know whether he's alive or dead--perhaps even
while he is still struggling with death--all they can do is to take his
character away!" she repeated, with flashing eyes.

"And I'm even worse than they are," he returned, his temper rising with
his color. "I ought to have known I was talking to one of HIS friends,
instead of one whom I thought was MINE. I beg your pardon."

He turned away as Miss Keene, apparently not heeding his pique, crossed
the deck, and entered into conversation with Mrs. Markham.

It is to be feared that she found little consolation among the other
passengers, or even those of her own sex, whom this profound event
had united in a certain freemasonry of sympathy and interest--to the
exclusion of their former cliques. She soon learned, as the return of
the boats to the ship and the ship to her course might have clearly told
her, that there was no chance of recovering the missing passenger. She
learned that the theory advanced by Brace was the one generally held by
them; but with an added romance of detail, that excited at once their
commiseration and admiration. Mrs. Brimmer remembered to have heard him,
the second or third night out from Callao, groaning in his state-room;
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