In the end, while he stood rigidly beside her, she laid her hand on his arm. "Dan'l," she said, "I wish—you would get over being so unhappy."
He looked at her through the dark; his voice was like a croak. "Unhappy ..." he repeated.
"It's not good for you, Dan'l," said Faith gently. "Unhappiness is—it's like a poison. It burns...."
"Aye?" said Dan'l. "That's true, Faith. It burns...."
"Why not forget it?" she urged. "You're actually growing thin on it, Dan'l. Your face is lined...."
Dan'l tried to laugh. "One thing," he said, "the ship's on my hands, now. Noll Wing—he's aging. He's an old man, Faith."
Faith turned her head away from him quickly; she bit her lip in the darkness. Dan'l repeated: "The Sally's on my hands, Faith. I'm master—without the name of it."
She said quietly: "Noll Wing is master here, Dan'l. Never think he is not."
Dan'l turned abruptly away; he stood with his back to her. And as he stood there, the jealousy of Brander and all the rancor that was poisoning the man gave way for a moment to his tenderness for Faith. He swung back sharply, gripped her shoulders.... "Faith," he said harshly, "Noll is master. So be it. But, Faith—I may still love you. I do. Nothing on earth can stop it. It's all there is in me, Faith. You.... You.... I would worship you; he kicks you with every word, as he kicks a dog. Faith.... Faith...."
She faced him squarely. "Dan'l, you are wrong. You are wrong to tell me this—to speak so.... It is not—manly, Dan'l."