Ross Poldark by Winston Graham Page A

lady.
    In the refreshment room Captain Blamey had produced a sketch.
    “Now, you see, this is the foremast, mainmast, and mizzenmast. On the foremast is the mains’l, the—”
    “Did you draw that?” Verity asked.
    “Yes. It is a sketch of my father's ship. She was a ship o’ the line. He died six years back. If—”
    “It's uncommonly well drawn.”
    “Oh, that. One gets used to the pencil. You see, the foremast and the mainmast are square-rigged; that is to say they carry yards at—um—across the run of the ship. The mizzenmast is part square-rigged, but she carries a gaff and a spanker boom, and the sail is called the spanker. It was called a lateen in the olden days. Now this is the bowsprit. It is not shown in this sketch, but a sprits’l is set beneath it, so… Miss Verity, when can I see you again after tonight?”
    Their heads were close together and she glanced up briefly into his intent brown eyes.
    “That I couldn’t say, Captain Blamey.”
    “It is all that I plan for.”
    “Oh,” said Verity.
    “… On the foremast, this is the mains’l. Then comes the lower tops’l and then the upper tops’l. This attachment to the bowsprit is called the jackstaff, and—and—”
    “What is the jackstaff for?” Verity asked, short of breath.
    “It is the—er— Dare I hope that—if I could hope that my interest was in the smallest way returned— If that were possible—”
    “I think that is possible, Captain Blamey.”
    He touched her fingers for a moment. “Miss Verity, you give me a hope, a prospect which would inspire any man. I feel—I feel—But before I see your father, I must tell you something that only your encouragement would give me strength to venture—”
    Five people entered the refreshment room, and Verity hastily straightened up, for she saw it was the Warleggans—with Francis and Elizabeth. Elizabeth saw her at once and smiled and waved and came across.
    She was wearing a dress of peach-coloured muslin, with a white crepe turban close-fitting about her head.
    “We’d no intention of coming, my dear,” she said in amusement at Verity's surprise. “How pretty you’re looking. How do you do, Captain Blamey.”
    “Your servant, ma’am.”
    “It was really George's fault,” Elizabeth went on, excited and therefore radiantly beautiful. “We were supping with him and I believe he found our entertainment difficult.”
    “Cruel words from kind lips,” said George Warleggan. “The fault is with your husband for wishing to dance this barbarous ecossaise .”
    Francis came across to them. His face was flushed with drink, and the effect also with him was a heightening of his good looks. “We’ve missed nothing thatmatters,” he said. “All the fun's to come. I could not be sedate tonight if all England depended on it.”
    “Nor I,” said Elizabeth. She smiled at Captain Blamey. “I hope our boisterous spirits don’t jar on you, sir.”
    The sailor took a deep breath. “Not in the very least, ma’am. I have every reason to be happy myself.”
    In the ballroom Ruth Teague had returned and Lady Whitworth had gone.
    “So Captain Poldark has left you at last, child!” said Mrs. Teague. “What explanation did he offer you for such conduct?”
    “None, Mama,” said Ruth, fanning herself brightly.
    “Well, it is gratifying to be distinguished by such a genteel man, but there is reason in all things. You should know your manners if he does not. People are talking already.”
    “Are they? Oh, dear. I cannot refuse to dance with him; he is most polite and agreeable.”
    “No doubt, no doubt. But it is not becoming to make oneself too cheap. And you should think also of your sisters.”
    “He has asked me for the next dance after this.”
    “What? And what did you say?”
    “I promised it for him.”
    “Uff!” Mrs. Teague shuddered fastidiously, but she was not as displeased as she sounded. “Well, a promise is a promise; you may dance it now. But you must not go