He says he
knows you, Bet--but he oughtn't to--he ain't fit for you to speak to."
"He's one of father's mates," said Bet. "And he's not at sea, Will;
he's on shore. Father wanted me to come home on Saturday night last
to see him, and to--to--oh, don't ask me--what father says has burnt
into my heart, I'm wild to-night, Will. I'm wild, and tossed with
misery, and that's the truth. Let me go home, Will Scarlett--that is,
to what home I have. Don't, don't be clutching hold of my hand. I ain't
fit to talk to a good lad like you to-night"
"Yes, you are, Bet," said Will. "You're more fit to talk to me than
to any other lad--or lass, for that matter--in the whole o' Liverpool;
for I'm your true love, Bet, and you are mine. There--you can't go for
to deny it."
Will's figure no longer looked so slight and boyish; he held himself
up very erect, and the breeze tossed back his thick dark curly hair,
and the moonlight shone into his honest blue eyes, as they looked
straight at the trembling, troubled, excited girl.
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