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Updated: June 5, 2025
I don't want to go back to the mills " Then sudden fury flamed in her. "I hate the men there!" she cried. "I'd drown before I'd go back!" "There, there, dear," my aunt soothed her. "You ain't going back you're going to work for Auntie Kingsbury." That was the way Deolda had.
He sat smiling at Johnny. "We-ll," he drawled. "How about it, Johnny? Goin'?" Johnny had been studying, his eyes on the floor. "I'll go with you," he said. Then again for a half minute nobody spoke. Captain Hammar glared, letting us see what was in his dark mind. Old Conboy shrunk into himself and Deolda sat with her wild eyes going from one to the other, but not moving.
Black looks passed between them, and I would catch "Nick" Hammar's eyes resting on Johnny with a smiling venom that struck fear into me. Johnny Deutra seldom came daytimes, but he came in late one afternoon and sat there looking moodily at Deolda, who flung past him with the air she had when she wore the saffron shawl.
Mark was his real name, but Nick was what they called him, after the "Old Nick," for he was a devil if there ever was one, a big, rollicking devil that is, outwardly. But gossips said no crueller man ever drove a crew for the third summer into the Northern Seas. I didn't like the way he looked at Deolda from the first, with his narrowed eyes and his smiling mouth.
If you ask me how my aunt, a decent, law-abiding woman a sick woman at that took a firebrand like Deolda into her home, all I would be able to answer is: If you had seen her stand there, as I did, on the porch that morning, you wouldn't ask the question. The doorbell rang and my aunt opened it, I tagging behind.
You can make a hundred dollars tonight by taking the Anita across to Gloucester with me. We'll start right off." Everyone was quiet. Then old Conboy cried out: "Don't go, Mark. Don't go! Why, it's murder to tempt that boy out there." At the word "murder" Deolda drew her breath in and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes staring at Johnny Deutra. "Nick" Hammar pretended he hadn't noticed.
What can you do when a girl tells the truth unabashed. "I've known Johnny Deutra ever since he came from the Islands, Deolda," my aunt said, sternly. "He'll mean it when he falls in love." "I know it," said Deolda, with a little breathless catch in her voice. "He's only a kid. He's barely twenty," my aunt went on, inexorably. "He's got to help his mother.
She'd sit mocking Conboy, but he'd only smile. She'd go off with her other love and my aunt powerless to stop her. As for Johnny Deutra, he was so in love that all he saw was Deolda. I don't believe he ever thought that she was in earnest about old Conboy. So things stood when one day Capt. Mark Hammar came driving up with Conboy to take Deolda out.
Why isn't my Johnny grown up? Why don't he take me away from them all?" After that Captain Hammar kept coming to the house. He showed well enough he was serious. "That black devil's hypnotized her," my aunt put it. Deolda seemed to have some awful kinship to Mark Hammar, and Johnny Deutra, who never paid much attention to old Conboy, paid attention to him.
"Do you know what you're headed for, Deolda?" said my aunt. "Do you know what you're doing when you talk about marrying old Conboy and loving that handsome, no-account kid, Johnny?" We were all three sitting on the bulkheads after supper. It was one of those soft nights with great lazy yellow clouds with pink edges sailing down over the rim of the sea, fleet after fleet of them.
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