"She'll pass."
"I'm not askin' if she pass. I'm askin' you if she isn't the fairest maid in Scalawag Run."
"'Tis a matter o' taste, father."
"An' what's your taste—if you have any?"
"If I was pickin' a fault," Dickie replied, "I'd say that she might have a touch more o' color in her cheeks t' match my notion o' beauty."
"A bit too pallid t' suit your delicate notion o' beauty!" Skipper John scoffed. "Well, well!"
"I knows rosier maids than she."
"I've no doubt of it. 'Tis a pity the good Lord's handiwork can't be remedied t' suit you. Mm-mm! Well, well! An' is there anything else out o' the way with God Almighty's idea o' what a fair maid looks like?"
"Dang me!" Dickie protested again. "I isn't denyin' that she's fair!"
"No; but——"