Her cheeks were flushed.

A strange look had frozen on her parted red lips, and her hair was falling loose in a cloud of curling brown tresses about her shoulders.

Jolly Roger, dreaming of her in his insane happiness of a few minutes ago, sensed nothing beyond the beauty and the unexpectedness of her in this first moment.

Then--swiftly--he saw the other thing.

The last glow of the sun glistened in her wet hair, her dress was sodden and clinging, and little pools of water were widening slowly about her ragged shoes.