Explore "The Money-Spider" by William Le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"That's a very neat and dainty little girl, the harbour-master's daughter," remarked the doctor to his friend as, half an hour later, they were seated together in the narrow little saloon of the _Mercur_, having a cigarette prior to turning in. For a month the black old steamer, with its odoriferous cargo of dried fish, whale oil, and cod liver oil had been their home, and their stomachs had long ago grown used to the flavour. To the uninitiated, however, the effluvia was poisonous, especially in a rough sea.
Dick Jervoise agreed, but remained unusually thoughtful. Truth to tell, the sweet face of Thyra Berentsen had so impressed him that he could think of nothing else. Those soft grey eyes, that slim, dainty figure, and that musical speech in three or four languages, had charmed him. Was it not entirely and utterly unexpected to find up there, so far north beyond civilisation, amid that rough, hard-handed fisher-folk, a girl so perfectly beautiful, so sweet and so child-like?