there, too weak to lift my eyelids and look at them; but not too weak
to curse them."

"No, Joyce, don't say that."

"But I do say it; and what's more, I mean it. I'll tell you what it is,
captain, there's a general opinion that when a man's shoulders are
crooked, his mind is crooked too; and that, if his poor unfortunate
legs have shrivelled up small, his heart must have shrivelled up small
to match 'em. I dare say there's some truth in the general opinion;
for, you see, it doesn't improve a man's temper to find himself cut out
according to a different pattern from that his fellow-creatures have
been made by, and to find his fellow-creatures setting themselves
against him because of that difference; and it doesn't soften a poor
wretch's heart towards the world in general, to find the world in
general harder than stone against him, for no better reason than his
poor weak legs and his poor crooked back. But never mind talking about
me and my feelings, captain. I ain't of so much account as to make it
worth while for a fine fellow like you to waste words upon me. What I
want to know is your plans. You don't intend to stop down this way, do
you?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because it's a dangerous way for a man who carries his fortune about
him, as you do. I wish you'd make up your mind to bank that money,
captain."

"Not if I know it," answered the sailor, with a look of profound
wisdom; "not if I know it, Joyce Harker. I know what your bankers are.