But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. . An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. He has a way of sitting on people. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds.
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