Explore "Her Sailor" by Marshall Saunders on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
To sit in a tender with her feet on a bag of coal had never up to this been Nina's idea of paradise. But now she changed her mind in the speediest manner possible.
She was in a small puffing craft of sable blackness; her light gown was in damaging proximity to the lumps of coal, yet she was blissfully happy. For she was gliding swiftly and surely over the broad, black bosom of the river toward the bright white light hung up in the masts of the _Merrimac_.