Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. Holding the lamp over her rigid but beautiful features, Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it.
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