Even Blueskin looked on with anxiety. She dismissed the idea of doing so. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. Wood, when he does return, I'd send him about his business. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. I rather want them. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face.
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