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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Tides of Barnegat"

He had about
made up his mind that something serious was the
matter and that he would ask her and find out.
"Ought to be called the Max Feilding, from the
way she tacks about. She's changed her course three
times since I've been watching her."
Max shot a glance athwart his shoulder and caught
a glimpse of the pretty lips thinned and straightened
and the half-closed eyes and wrinkled forehead.
He was evidently the disturbing cause, but in what
way he could not for the life of him see. That she
was angry to the tips of her fingers was beyond question;
the first time he had seen her thus in all their
acquaintance.
"Yes-that would fit her exactly," he answered
with a smile and with a certain soothing tone in his
voice. "Every tack her captain makes brings him
the nearer to the woman he loves."
"Rather poetic, Max, but slightly farcical.
Every tack you make lands you in a different port--
with a woman waiting in every one of them." The
first notes of the overture had now been struck.
"No one was waiting in Philadelphia for me
except Sue, and I only met her by accident," he
said good-naturedly, and in a tone that showed he
would not quarrel, no matter what the provocation;
"she came in to see her doctor.


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