I made him scrub down the bridge with suds every morning, and while his hands were puffed and soft, I sent him down to the fireroom to pass coal." "He'll kill you someday." "If he can." They smiled strangely at each other.
A knock came at the door, and Salvain entered, radiant.
"She is divine!" he cried.

"Her hair is old copper with golden lights.
McTee, if she is yours, you have found another Venus!" "If she is not mine," answered McTee, "at least she belongs to no other man." Salvain studied him, first with eagerness, then with doubt, and last of all with despair.
"If any other man said that I would question it--so!--with my life.

But McTee?
No, I love life too well!" "Now," Henshaw said to Salvain, "Captain McTee and I have business to talk." "Aye, sir," said Salvain.
"One minute, Salvain," broke in McTee.

"I haven't thanked you in the girl's name for taking care of Miss Malone." The first mate paused at the door.
"I begin to wonder, captain," he answered, "whether or not you have the right to thank me in her name!" He disappeared through the door without waiting for an answer.
"Salvain has forgotten me," muttered McTee, balling his fist, "but I'll freshen his memory." He flushed as he became aware of the cold eye of Henshaw upon him.
"Even Samson fell," said the old man.

"But she hasn't cut your hair yet, McTee ?" "What the devil do you mean ?" Henshaw silently poured another drink and passed it to the Scotchman.
The latter gripped the glass hard and tossed off the drink with a single gesture.