Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. So far the thing was acceptable enough. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. I have strength enough to drag myself there, and I do not want to return. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. ” She eyed him scornfully.
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