“Spit it out,” said the confessor, a bit uneasy in her mind at this new development and the serious tone of the other.
“I told the boys there was a black streak in me. And there is. I let you down.”
“Let me down?”
“Yep. D’you remember when you were tinkering at the engine that day the calm took us?”
“Yes.”
“Well, a big freighter passed within hail and I let her go.”
“Well, what about it?”
“I should have stopped her so that you might have got back to ’Frisco.”
“But I didn’t want to go to ’Frisco.”
“Why, you said the day we first had you on board that you could get back on some ship.”