n," said Moran simply. "If you, for instance,
had been like some men, I should have fought you. It wouldn't have been
the first time," she added, smoothing one huge braid between her palms.

Wilbur looked at her with intent curiosity--noted again, as if for the
first time, the rough, blue overalls thrust into the shoes; the coarse
flannel shirt open at the throat; the belt with its sheath-knife; her
arms big and white and tattooed in sailor fashion; her thick, muscular
neck; her red face, with its pale blue eyes and almost massive jaw; and
her hair, her heavy, yellow, fragrant hair, that lay over her shoulder
and breast, coiling and looping in her lap.

"No," he said, with a long breath, "I don't make it out. I knew you were
out of my experience, but I begin to think now that you are out of even
my imagination. You are right, you SHOULD keep to yourself. You should
be alone--your mate isn't made yet. You are splendid just as you are,"
while under his breath he added, his teeth clinching, "and God! but I
love you."

It was growing late, the stars were all out, the moon riding high. Moran
yawned:

"Mate, I think I'll turn in. We'll have to be at that schooner early in
the morning, and I make no doubt she'll give us plenty to do." Wilbur
hesitated to reply, waiting to take his cue from what next she should
say. "It's hot enough to sleep where we are," she added, "without going
aboard the 'Bertha,' though we might have a couple of blankets off to
lie on. This sand's as hard as a plank."

Without answering, Wilbur showed her a couple of blanket-rolls he had
brought off while he was unloading part of the stores that afternoon.
They took one apiece and spread them on the sand by the bleached whale's
skull. Moran pulled off her boots and stretched herself upon her blanket
with absolute unconcern, her hands clasped under her head. Wilbur rolled
up his coat for a pillow and settled himself for the night with an
assumed self-possession. There was a long silence. Moran yawned again.

"I pulled the heel off my boot this morning," she said lazily, "and I've
been limping all day."

"I noticed it," answered Wilbur. "Kitchell had a new pair aboard
somewhere, if they're not spoiled by the water now."

"Yes?" she said indifferently; "we'll look them up in the morning."

Again there was silence.

"I wonder," she began again, staring up into the dark, "if Charlie took
that frying-pan off with him when he went?"

"I don't know.