酷兔英语

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heads were disappearing behind it with greater frequency. He

strained his eyes to keep them in sight, and finally fetched the



telescope on to the veranda. A squall was making over from the

direction of Florida; but then, she and her men laughed at squalls



and the white choppy sea at such times. She certainly could swim,

he had long since concluded. That came of her training in Hawaii.



But sharks were sharks, and he had known of more than one good

swimmer drowned in a tide-rip.



The squall blackened the sky, beat the ocean white where he had

last seen the three heads, and then blotted out sea and sky and



everything with its deluge of rain. It passed on, and Berande

emerged in the bright sunshine as the three swimmers emerged from



the sea. Sheldon slipped inside with the telescope, and through

the screen-door watched her run up the path, shaking down her hair



as she ran, to the fresh-water shower under the house.

On the veranda that afternoon he broached the proposition of a



chaperone as delicately as he could, explaining the necessity at

Berande for such a body, a housekeeper to run the boys and the



storeroom, and perform divers other useful functions. When he had

finished, he waited anxiously for what Joan would say.



"Then you don't like the way I've been managing the house?" was her

first objection. And next, brushing his attempted explanations



aside, "One of two things would happen. Either I should cancel our

partnership agreement and go away, leaving you to get another



chaperone to chaperone your chaperone; or else I'd take the old hen

out in the whale-boat and drown her. Do you imagine for one moment



that I sailed my schooner down here to this raw edge of the earth

in order to put myself under a chaperone?"



"But really . . . er . . . you know a chaperone is a necessary

evil," he objected.



"We've got along very nicely so far without one. Did I have one on

the Miele? And yet I was the only woman on board. There are only



three things I am afraid of--bumble-bees, scarlet fever, and

chaperones. Ugh! the clucking, evil-minded monsters, finding wrong



in everything, seeing sin in the most innocent actions, and

suggesting sin--yes, causing sin--by their diseased imaginings."



"Phew!" Sheldon leaned back from the table in mock fear.

"You needn't worry about your bread and butter," he ventured. "If



you fail at planting, you would be sure to succeed as a writer--

novels with a purpose, you know."



"I didn't think there were persons in the Solomons who needed such

books," she retaliated. "But you are certainly one--you and your



custodians of virtue."

He winced, but Joan rattled on with the platitudinous originality



of youth.

"As if anything good were worth while when it has to be guarded and



put in leg-irons and handcuffs in order to keep it good. Your

desire for a chaperone as much as implies that I am that sort of



creature. I prefer to be good because it is good to be good,

rather than because I can't be bad because some argus-eyed old



frump won't let me have a chance to be bad."

"But it--it is not that," he put in. "It is what others will



think."

"Let them think, the nasty-minded wretches! It is because men like



you are afraid of the nasty-minded that you allow their opinions to

rule you."



"I am afraid you are a female Shelley," he replied; "and as such,

you really drive me to become your partner in order to protect



you."

"If you take me as a partner in order to protect me . . . I . . . I



shan't be your partner, that's all. You'll drive me into buying

Pari-Sulay yet."



"All the more reason--" he attempted.

"Do you know what I'll do?" she demanded. "I'll find some man in



the Solomons who won't want to protect me."

Sheldon could not conceal the shock her words gave him.



"You don't mean that, you know," he pleaded.

"I do; I really do. I am sick and tired of this protection dodge.



Don't forget for a moment that I am perfectly able to take care of

myself. Besides, I have eight of the best protectors in the world-



-my sailors."

"You should have lived a thousand years ago," he laughed, "or a



thousand years hence. You are very primitive, and equally super-

modern. The twentieth century is no place for you."



"But the Solomon Islands are. You were living like a savage when I

came along and found you--eating nothing but tinned meat and scones






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