have been rather humiliating if she had happened to encounter Mr. Sinclair. But now there was a week in which to rest and make new plans; perhaps she might even stay longer, if it could be arranged. She liked the Pemberleys and they puzzled her. Lightkeepers who put puns in Greek and Latin upon their boats are not common; nor do lightkeepers' wives usually dress in blue gowns with silver clasps at the throat and serve delicious food in real "Willow Pattern" plates. Cap'n 'Bijah was right in saying that they were "noways like the folks around these pa'ts," and Joan gave up trying to account for them.
She found another cause for contentment. Apparently there were no children at the Light, and she had seen no fewer than seven at the hotel during her brief glimpse of it. "All shrieking at once!" reflected Joan. "I could never have stood it." She did not like children. Indeed, that was another of Mr. Robert Sinclair's accusations. He had tried to tell her about a small newsboy with whom he had talked at the street corner and of the child's real charm.
"He couldn't be charming," Joan had said.
