"What?" Sophie stood up, and all the fragrant blooms fell at her feet. "Oh, surely he wouldn't take Betty up with him. It would be dreadful."
"Now, don't you worry," said the captain; "he ain't goin' to let a hair of her head get hurt—he's daffy over her."
"Daffy?" Sophie stared.
"Yep." The captain set his tray on the rustic table. "He and that Betty child went with me and Miss Matthews for a day's fishin', and at first we didn't notice anything, but after a while we began to open our eyes—and, well, we ain't blind, are we, Miss Matthews?"
Miss Matthews, drinking her tea thirstily, took up the captain's story. "It rained, and the captain and I wrapped up and stayed by the boat. But those young folks ran off, and he was helping her along, and she was looking up at him—and—everybody knows what's going to happen when two people look at each other that way."
"And if they are flying," the captain chuckled, "they're probably as near heaven as it's possible to be this side of the pearly gates."
But Sophie would not treat the subject lightly. "It's bad enough for a man to fly," she said, "but he had no right to take that child up with him. Where did you see them, captain?"
"I was standing on those rocks out there, and I saw him rise up over the harbor. I could see that he had someone with him, so I went in, and got my glass, and sure enough, there she was, all in white, with a white veil wrapped tight about her head."
"Which way did they go?"
"Straight out beyond the harbor, and up toward Gloucester way—but don't you worry, Mrs. Martens; they'll be back before they know it."