The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. The captain saw it too and nodded at the boy. But you don’t particularly want to do the job that sets you free—for its own sake. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl.
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