ashore, living and dead, and they carried the bodies to the glare of the fires, asking: > “Child, is this your father?” or “Wife, is this your man?” you could hear hard breathing all over the
“And when the boats of Brixham Go out to face the gales, Think of the love that travels Like light upon their sails!”
There was very little applause when she finished. The women were looking for their handkerchiefs, and many of the men stared at the ceiling with shiny eyes.
“H’m,” said Salters; “that ’u’d cost ye a dollar to hear at any theatre—maybe two. Some folk, I presoom, can afford it. ’Seems downright waste to me. … Naow, how in Jerusalem did Cap. Bart Edwardes strike adrift here?”
“No keepin’ him under,” said an Eastport man behind. “He’s