"My dear Captain! Such a long time since I have seen you!..." She had heard of him frequently through her young friend, but even so, she could not but consider it a misfortune that the sailor had never come to see her.
She appeared to have forgotten her coldness when bidding him farewell in Salerno and the care which she had taken to hide from him her home address.
Neither did Ferragut recall this fact now that he was so agreeably touched by the doctor's amiability.

She had seated herself between the two as though wishing to protect them with all the majesty of her person and the affection of her eyes.

She was a real mother for her young friend.

While speaking, she was patting Freya's great locks of hair, which had just escaped from underneath her hat, and Freya, adapting herself to the tenderness of the situation, cuddled down against the doctor, assuming the air of a timid and devoted child while she fixed on Ulysses her eyes of sweet promise.
"You must love her very much, Captain," continued the matron.

"Freya speaks only of you.