“Anny,” he said, his young eyes regarding her solemnly, “you are as beautiful as the sea at five o’clock on a summer’s morning. Look, sweetheart, over there, see—your eyes are as green as that sea, and your hair black as yon breakwater that starts out of it.”
The girl laughed, well pleased, but she looked over at the old hull again quickly.
“Will we go back now?” she asked at last.
The boy looked at her, astonished.
“Go back!” he said. “Why, what for—art not tired, surely?”
The girl shook her head.
“Nay,” she said, “but——” She stopped and looked at the hull again.
Hal followed the direction of her eyes before he spoke again. Then he laughed.
“Why, Anny, you are afraid to pass your grandsire’s boat.”
Then, as she did not speak, he took her little chin in his brown hand and raised her face to his.