Besides, if you weren't so mediaeval, I could be skipper and save more than the engineer's wages." He did not reply to her thrust, and she glanced at him.

He was looking out over the water, and in the lantern light she noted the lines of his face--strong, stern, dogged, the mouth almost chaste but firmer and thinner-lipped than Tudor's.

For the first time she realized the quality of his strength, the calm and quiet of it, its simple integrity and reposeful determination.

She glanced quickly at Tudor on the other side of her.

It was a handsomer face, one that was more immediately pleasing.
But she did not like the mouth.