" "Quarrel with me as much as you please, Thames, but hear me," returned Sheppard. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. I've just left your nephew. This foster child’s name was Mary Lucia Iovelli, and we have photographic documents of a woman who looks exactly like you, dear. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. She forgot her vital hatred of the South Seas; she forgot that McClintock's would not differ a jot from the old island she had for ever left behind her; she forgot all the doctor's lessons and warnings. She was reasonably certain why. But you belong to me—and I want you.
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