It was made for kissing, and she abhorred kisses.

This was not a deliberately achieved concept; it came to her in the form of a faint and vaguely intangible repulsion.

For the moment she knew a fleeting doubt of the man.

Perhaps Sheldon was right in his judgment of the other.

She did not know, and it concerned her little; for boats, and the sea, and the things and happenings of the sea were of far more vital interest to her than men, and the next moment she was staring through the warm tropic darkness at the loom of the sails and the steady green of the moving sidelight, and listening eagerly to the click of the sweeps in the rowlocks.