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Yet I'll be bound you think you know a sight more than both of us put together." "No, I don't. But " "And yet you've had more learning than ever came our way." "Of a kind. But " "Exactly, mon gars! And that other is the learning that doesn't come from books. And all your learning and Carette's will only prepare you for these other things. With all your learning you are only babies yet.
The ground we stood on was a slab of solid rock and dry as bone, no splash, no sound, no drop outside, only the silent and powerful up-thrust of the water from below, the silent golden rings that tumbled to the sides of the basin, and the constant expectation of something more which never came. It was Carette's quick understanding that named it.
Carette's piece came out a something which Jeanne Falla at once pronounced an anchor, but which young Torode said was a sword, and made it so by a skilful touch of the finger. ... The air had been very still, as though asleep like all things else except the sea.
During the ten days that followed Riding Day, my mind was very busy settling, as it supposed, the future, mine and Carette's. For, whether she desired me in hers or not, I had no doubts whatever as to what I wanted myself. My only doubts were as to the possibilities of winning such a prize.
I leaned panting against the rock, and saw Carette's skirts disappear over the brow of the Common at the Sercq end, with thankfulness past words. For myself, I was safe enough. No shot could reach me so long as I kept cover. From no point on Little Sercq could they snap at me by any amount of climbing.
It was Carette's youngest brother, Helier. "All that's left of him, hull damaged," he said, with a feeble show of spirit. "What's wrong?" "A shot 'twixt wind and water leaking a bit." "Does it hurt you to talk?" He nodded to save words, but added, "Hurts more not to. Thought you were dead." "I suppose so. Now you must lie quiet, and I'll look after you.
And at that, Carette's voice came, like a silver pipe, from some hidden place "Phil, mon p'tit, is that you? I'm here, but you mustn't come in. I'm in bed. I've got measles. Father's gone across to see Aunt Jeanne about it." "I was afraid you'd got drowned, or hurt, or something," I said. "If it's only measles " "Just that only measles, and it doesn't hurt the least bit."
It was a time of weary waiting, with nothing to do but think of Carette's distress, and watch the white clouds sailing slowly along the blue sky, while my boat rose high and fell low in the black cleft, now ten feet up with a rush and a swirl, then as many feet down, with deep gurglings and rushing waterfalls from every ledge.
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