It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. "He has escaped!" exclaimed the knight; "we have searched every corner of the house without finding a trace of him. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. "A good idea!" exclaimed the carpenter. “You are going to treat me as though I wasn’t. Did you really doubt if I knew?” “No. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. ’ ‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain.
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