I wish he might forget." "Men don't forget such women as Jane Hope," said the captain softly.
"You knew her ?" "Yes.

She came up with her father on my ship.

That was twenty-five years ago last autumn, Alan.

A long time, isn't it?
And when I look at Mary Standish and hear her voice--" He hesitated, as if betraying a secret, and then he added: "-- I can't help thinking of the girl Donald Hardwick fought for and won in that death-hole at White Horse.

It's too bad she had to die." "She isn't dead," said Alan.