"Ain't none of 'em asked ye to come an' live with them?"
"Cap'n Ball!"
"Ain't ye seen Tunis?"
The girl hid her face from him. She put her hands over her eyes. Her shoulders shook with her sobbing. Cap'n Ira took a reflective pinch of snuff.
"I cal'late," he said, after wiping his eyes, "that it ain't Tunis' fault that you are going away any more than it is mine and Prudence's. You just made up your mind to go."
"Cap'n Ball!" she exclaimed faintly, and again raised her eyes to his. "Can—can I help it? Now?"
"I don't know," he said, pursing his lips. "I don't know, gal, as anybody is driving you away from Wreckers' Head and them that loves ye here."
She was speechless. She gazed at him with drenched eyes, her face quivering uncontrollably. A hand pressed tightly to her breast seemed endeavoring to still the wild fluttering there.
"I don't know," he repeated, "that we got much to offer a gal like you, and that's a fact. We learned to know you pretty well while you stayed with us, Prue and me did. Somehow, we can't just seem to get the straight of what you told us that night you left. It—it ain't possible that you made some mistake, is it? Mebbe you was talking about some other gal?"
"Oh, Cap'n Ball!" she sighed. "I am able to tell you nothing that will change your opinion of me."