” “Hah!” He threw his head back. Part 7 Then one day a little thing happened that clothed itself in significance. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun.
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