Зима тревоги нашей

           You’relettingdownthememoryofoldCap’nHawley.Youowehismemorysomething.Why,heandmydaddyownedtheBelle-Adairtogether,oneofthelastbuiltandfinestofallwhalingbottoms.Getoffyourass,Ethan.YouowetheBelle-Adairsomethingyouhaven’tpaidinguts.Thehellwiththefinancecompany."

           Ethancoaxedareluctantpieceofcellophaneoverthegutter’sedgewithhisbroomtip.Hesaidsoftly,"TheBelle-Adairburnedtothewaterline,sir."

           "Iknowshedid,butdidthatstopus?Itdidnot."

           "Shewasinsured."

           "Ofcourseshewas."

           "Well,Iwasn’t.Isavedmyhouseandnothingelse."

           "You’llhavetoforgetthat.You’rebroodingonsomethingpast.You’vegottoscrapeupsomecourage,somedaring.That’swhyIsaidyoushouldinvestMary’smoney.I’mtryingtohelpyou,Ethan."

           "Thankyou,sir."

           "We’llgetthatapronoffyou.YouowethattooldCap’nHawley.Hewouldn’tbelieveit."

           "Iguesshewouldn’t."

           "That’sthewaytotalk.We’llgetthatapronoff."

           "Ifitwasn’tforMaryandthechildren—"

           "Forgetthem,Itellyou—fortheirowngood.There’ssomeinterestingthingsgoingtohappenhereinNewBaytown.Youcanbepartofit."