Paul whistled one rollicking tune after another . The girl bit her lips and clenched her hands . He cared nothing for her -- he had been making a mock of her as of others . Hurt pride and wounded love fought each other in her soul . Pride conquered . She would not let him , or anyone , see that she cared . She would not care ! At her gate Paul held out his hand . `` Well , good-bye , Joan . I 'm sailing tomorrow so I wo n't see you again -- not for years likely . You will be some sober old married woman when I come back to Prospect , if I ever do . '' `` Good-bye , '' said Joan steadily . She gave him her cold hand and looked calmly into his face without quailing . She had loved him with all her heart , but now a fatal scorn of him was already mingling with her love . He was what they said he was , a scamp without principle or honour . Paul whistled himself out of the Shelley lane and over the hill . Then he flung himself down under the spruces , crushed his face into the spicy frosted ferns , and had his black hour alone . But when Captain Alec 's schooner sailed out of the harbour the next day , Paul King was on board of her , the wildest and most hilarious of a wild and hilarious crew . Prospect people nodded their satisfaction . `` Good riddance , '' they said .
`` Paul King is black XXXXX the core .
At after if in into that to under with without