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"Look there," said Hardenberg, jerking his head toward the cutter, "how far'd we get before the customs would 'a' passed the tip to her and she'd started to overhaul us? That's what they feed her for to round up the likes o' us." "We got to do something rather soon," put in Strokher. "Here comes the custom house dinghy now." As a matter of fact, a boat was putting off from the dock.
"Where's Bellaire, Matty?" she demanded. "Off south," replied the woman, "right bearin' south." "By train?" "Yes, the same's walkin' or flying'," confirmed Matty. "Jest the same." "Then you can finish the story now, Matty," said Virginia presently. Matty settled back in her chair, closed her eyes, and began to hum. "How far'd I tell last night?" she queried, blinking.
Far hath he far'd, and farther must fare, Till he finds his pavilion nor stately nor rare, Little save iron and steel was there; And, as lacking the coin to pay armourer's care, With his sinewy arms to the shoulders bare, The good knight with hammer and file did repair The mail that to-morrow must see him wear, For the honour of Saint John and his lady fair.