Yes--the same dear eyes--and the hair growing low on the temples, and the beautiful mouth and--No--I sha'n't forget--I never have." He rose from his seat and held out his hand: "You'll take it, won't you ?--just once--Good-by!" She had not moved, nor had she grasped his hand; her face was still towards him, her whole frame tense, the tears crowding to the lids.
"Sit down, Harry.

I can't let you go like this.

Tell me something more of where you are going.

Why must you go to sea?
Can't you support yourself here ?--isn't there something you can get to do?
I will see my father and find out if--" "No, you won't." There was a note almost of defiance in his voice--one she had never heard before.

"I am through with accepting favors from any living man.