"Have you sent off the note?" inquired Jack. ” She had a moment of sheer panic at the thing she had done. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. To the Seven Cities of Refuge Jack proceeded. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things.
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