“This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. “Who?” She asked. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. . He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. 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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