‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. Master Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin'; and you, Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst, I defy you. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.
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