“She is the loveliest woman in the world,” he said to himself, sauntering towards the shooting party, “and if I win her I will be the most fortunate of beings. But I am afraid she is a coquette, or else it is a woman’s way of provoking love. Hullo, Dick! is this you?” he added aloud, as the boatswain, considerably battered, approached him. “I’m afraid I’ve knocked you up a bit.”
“Not a bit of it, sir,” replied Dick, heartily grasping the young Englishman’s extended hand. “I’ll be as right as a trivet to-morrow; but, my word, sir, I shouldn’t like to meet you without the gloves!”
“I don’t know so much about that, Dick. You were a pretty tough antagonist, I can tell you!”
“So Zoe thought, sir, when she saw me,” grinned Dick, displaying his white teeth; “she[“she] thought it was Gurt, sir!”
“And was sorry it wasn’t, perhaps?”
“I’m blest if she was, Mr. Roylands! I’m the white-haired boy in that quarter, sir.”
“And Gurt?”
“Oh, he don’t mind, sir. He’s not a marrying man—I am.”
“And you intend to marry Zoe?”
“If she’ll have me, sir.”