His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. "I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare.
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