The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. " "Iss, missis," grinned the black. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. She will cry for days and nights together. Come to take leave.
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