He set down the bags and stood awkwardly; he seemed hesitant about leaving. At last he said, “G’night,” moving slowly out the door. But he hesitated again. “If you should need us—night or day, ma’am—you just call. Any time at all. Don’t you mind. Neither the Cap’n nor me is a sound sleeper.”
Mechanically she locked the door after him. He wasn’t a reassurance. She’d wager that he knew as little about things as she. She laughed, picturing the bewilderment on his scrawny face had she quizzed him on the ramifications of Pan-Pacific. But the sound was eerie in the empty room. She turned on the radio in futile reach for companionship. She didn’t like the hollow of the cottage without voices in it, the creaking of the wind against the walls, the unending swishunswish of the waves against the roc
