It was one of those faces at which one could look for ever and still feel there was a charm about it he had not caught.
"I've never seen such a face before," again murmured Ridgeway.
"Tastes differ," said Veath.

"Now, if you'll pardon me, I think Miss Ridge is the more beautiful.

She is taller and has better style.
Besides, I like fair women.

What say ?" The question was prompted by the muttered oath that came from Hugh.
"Nothing at all," he almost snarled.

"Say, Veath, don't always be talking to me about my sister," he finally jerked out, barely able to confine himself to this moderately sensible abjuration while his brain was seething with other and stronger expressions.
"I beg your pardon, Ridge; I did not know that I talked very much about her." There was a brief silence and then he continued: "Have a fresh cigar, old man." Hugh took the cigar ungraciously, ashamed of his petulance.
By this time the early shades of night had begun to settle and the figures along the deck were growing faint in the shadows.