So had the steward, who had spent most of a life-time in sailing- ships.

So far as Captain West was concerned, crews did not exist.

And as for Miss West, she was so abominably robust that she could not be anything else than an optimist in such matters.

She had always lived; her red blood sang to her only that she would always live and that nothing evil would ever happen to her glorious personality.
Oh, trust me, I knew the way of red blood.

Such was my condition that the red-blood health of Miss West was virtually an affront to me--for I knew how unthinking and immoderate such blood could be.