my eyes yesterday to see how long I could do so without wearying myself. I
found that three minutes was quite enough, but I have often kept you posed
for five."

"It hurted my arm 'tween the shoulder an' elbow a lil bit at first, but
I've grawed used to it now."

"How ever shall I repay you, kind Joan, for all your trouble and your long
walks and pretty stories?"

"I doan't need no pay. If 'twas a matter o' payin', 'twould be a wrong
thing to do, I reckon. Theer's auld Bascombe up Paul--him wi' curls o' long
hair an' gawld rings in's ears. Gents pays en to take his likeness; an'
theer's gals make money so, more'n wan; but faither says 'tis a heathenish
way of livin' an' not honest. An'--an' I'd never let nobody paint me else
but you, Mister Jan, 'cause you'm different."

"Well, you make me a proud man, Joan. I'm afraid I must be a poor
substitute for Joe."

He noticed she had never mentioned her sweetheart since their early
interviews, and wanted to ascertain of what nature was Joan's affection for
the sailor. He did not yet dream how faint a thing poor Joe had shrunk to
be in Joan's mind, or how the present episode in her life was dwarfing and
dominating all others, present and past.

Nor did the girl's answer to his remark enlighten him.

"In coorse you an' Joe's differ'nt as can be. You knaws everything
seemin'ly an' be a gen'le-man; Joe's only a seafarin' man, an' 'e doan't