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’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. The captain saw it too and nodded at the boy. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. “The Widgetts,” she said. Even our coarseness.
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