They could slip away only by deciding to, and this rare Englishwoman had no taste for the petty overt hostilities.

'If I can be of use to you,' she said.
'If you can bear sea-pitching and tossing for the sake of the loveliest sight in the whole world,' said Renee.
'I know it well,' Rosamund replied.
Renee rippled her eyebrows.

She divined a something behind that remark, and as she was aware of the grief of Rosamund's life, her quick intuition whispered that it might be connected with the gallant officer dead on the battle-field.
'Madame, if you know it too well...' she said.
'No; it is always worth seeing,' said Rosamund, 'and I think, mademoiselle, with your permission, I should accompany you.' 'It is only a whim of mine, madame.

I can stay on shore.' 'Not when it is unnecessary to forego a pleasure.' 'Say, my last day of freedom.' Renee kissed her hand.
She is terribly winning, Rosamund avowed.

Renee was in debate whether the woman devoted to Nevil would hear her and help.
Just then Roland and Nevil returned from their boat, where they had left carpenters and upholsterers at work, and the delicate chance for an understanding between the ladies passed by.
The young men were like waves of ocean overwhelming it, they were so full of their boat, and the scouring and cleaning out of it, and provisioning, and making it worthy of its freight.