“You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. Fascination. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. Once a sick sailor drew three pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and sail—square-rigger, schooner, and sloop. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. He continued tenderly, almost affectionately. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. ‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger.
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