He seemed in his clear-edged mass King of this brave new boundless world built in a minute out of the wreck of the old.
An hour back the vessel was labouring through rueful chasms under darkness, and then did the tricksy Southwest administer grisly slaps to right and left, whizzing spray across the starboard beam, and drenching the locks of a young lady who sat cloaked and hooded in frieze to teach her wilfulness a lesson, because she would keep her place on deck from beginning to end of the voyage.

Her faith in the capacity of Irish frieze to turn a deluge of the deeps driven by an Atlantic gale was shaken by the time she sighted harbour, especially when she shed showers by flapping a batlike wing of the cloak, and had a slight shudder to find herself trickling within.
'Dear! and I'm wet to the skin,' she confided the fact to herself vocally.
'You would not be advised,' a gentleman beside her said after a delicate pause to let her impulsive naturalism of utterance fly by unwounded.
'And aren't you the same and worse?
And not liking it either, I fear, Sir!' she replied, for despite a manful smile his complexion was tell-tale.

'But there 's no harm in salt.

But you should have gone down to the cabin with Father Boyle and you would have been sure of not catching cold.

But, Oh! the beautiful...