Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. It seemed at this moment, however, that there was not going to be any “fun”, and Captain Roding said so. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back.
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