” “Why not?” she asked quietly. ” She dropped back into a crouching attitude and began to weep. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. ‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome.
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