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Harrigan by Max Brand
page 27 of 285 (09%)
It disarmed him. Those possibilities of tenderness came about his
stiff-set lips, and the girl wondered.

"I was thinkin' about my home town."

"Where is it?"

He frowned and waved his hand in a sweep which included half the points
on the compass.

"Back there."

She waited, wrapping up the gauze bandage.

"When I was a kid, I used to go down to the harbor an' watch the ships
comin' in an' goin' out," he went on cautiously.

She nodded, and he resumed with more confidence: "I'd sit on the
pierhead an' watch the ships. I knew they was bringing the smell of far
lands in their holds."

There was a little pause; then his head tilted back and he burst into
the soft, thick brogue: "Ah-h, I was afther bein' woild about the
schooners blowin' out to sea wid their sails shook out like clouds. An'
then I'd look down to the wather around the pier, an' it was green,
deep green, ah-h, the deep sea-green av it! An' I would look into it
an' dream. Whin I seen your eyes--"

He stopped, grown cold as a man will when he feels that he has laid his
inner self indecently bare to the eye of the world. But she did not
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