“Oh! now why will you keep plaguing me, Hal? How many times have I told you so on this same wall? You know I do.”
“Can I kiss you again, then?”
“Ay, Hal.”
There was silence for a minute or so, and the gulls fishing for eels in the soft black mud came in closer to the shingle-strewn strip of beach, taking no notice of the two figures on the sea wall, so still they stood.
“When we get married, lass”—the young voice sounded clearly in the quietness and the gulls flew screaming—“we might keep the Ship ourselves.”
The girl at his side cut him short with a bitter little laugh.
“Ay, Hal,” she said sadly, “when we get married—that’s a tremendous long way off, I’m thinking.”
The boy put his arm round her waist unchecked.
“I don’t know,” he said, and his voice sounded hopeful, “I don’t know, lass. Gilbot’s leaving the place in my hands more than ever, and who knows but what some day he’ll be handing it over to me altogether.”
Anny joined in his laugh and her hand slid up and caressed his broad, scarlet-shirted shoulder.