"I wanted to turn her to port yet she goes to starboard, and
signals starboard, too. There--now--she has stopped altogether.
What do you think of that?"
Gladys stroked the old seafarer's hand gently, as he sat silently
at the table, peering with contracted brows out into the now
brilliantly moonlit night.
Shirley looked up at his daughter, and the lines on his face
relaxed as though he would hide his disappointment from her eager
eyes.
"Confound that light! What's the matter with it?" he exclaimed,
changing the subject, and glancing up at the gas-fixture.
Kennedy had already been intently looking at the Welsbach burner
overhead, which had been flickering incessantly. "That gas
company!" added the Captain, shaking his head in disgust, and
showing annoyance over a trivial thing to hide deep concern over a
greater, as some men do. "I shall use the electricity altogether
after this contract with the company expires. I suppose you
literary men, Mr. Jameson, would call that the light that failed.
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