The awning had been removed, the stars were shining in the moonless sky,
the poop guard had shifted itself to the quarter-deck,
and Miss Sarah Purfoy was walking up and down the deserted poop,
in close tête-à-tête with no less a person than Captain Blunt himself.
She had passed and repassed him twice silently, and at the third turn
the big fellow, peering into the twilight ahead somewhat uneasily,
obeyed the glitter of her great eyes, and joined her.

"You weren't put out, my wench," he asked, "at what I said to you below?"

She affected surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, at my--at what I--at my rudeness, there! For I was a bit rude, I admit."

"I? Oh dear, no. You were not rude."

"Glad you think so!" returned Phineas Blunt, a little ashamed
at what looked like a confession of weakness on his part.

"You would have been--if I had let you."

"How do you know?"

"I saw it in your face. Do you think a woman can't see in a man's face
when he's going to insult her?"

"Insult you, hey! Upon my word!"