Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. And he liked her. He stopped abruptly. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. The knife is at my breast. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather.
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