He was not a sailor. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. The four tourists contributed varied sums: the spinsters ten cents each, the girl a shilling, the young man a Mexican dollar. 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. You had better go to bed.
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