She looked up at him wonderingly. For perhaps ten seconds the silence held and the spell of her eerie sweetness deepened.
"I love you, Mary," Jack said softly.
She took a step back.
"Really, Mary, I do."
She shook her head. "I don't know what's true. Go away."
"Mary," he pleaded, "read the papers I've given you. Think things through. I'll wait for you here."
"You can't. My aunts would find you."
"Then I'll go away and come back. About sunset. Will you give me an answer?"
She looked at him. Suddenly she whirled around. He, too, heard the chuff of the Essex. "They'll find us," she said. "And if they find you, I don't know what they'll do. Quick, run!" And she darted off herself, only to turn back to scramble for the papers.
"But will you give me an answer?" he pressed.