She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. “It isn’t anything to do with our times particularly. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. I refused to sign a petition in his behalf to the Recorder; not from any ill-will to him, but because it was prepared by a person whom I particularly dislike— Captain Darrell. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. “There, there, now. She had found him! Excitement welled. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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