"You like her?" asked the girl.
"She's a fine, upstanding craft," said Anthony, "roomy, with plenty of space for a press of wind, and I have no doubt, sails well in most weathers. She'll ride like a duck; I know that buoyant look."
"I'm glad," said mademoiselle. "I tried to please you."
His eyes met hers, and he held them steadily.
"You have pleased me in more than that," said Anthony. "One by one I have been storing the instances away in my mind; some day I shall tell you what they are."
There was an open look in his eye that stopped the speech on her lips: a flush came into her face, and her own eyes were very bright as she turned her head, so that he might not see. The tackle from the schooner's foremast strained and whined through the blocks; some negroes, chanting monotonously, laid their weight against the capstan bars.
"In two days," said the girl, "she will be ready."
"In two days," said Anthony, "she will be gone."