‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. 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. He opened his eyes, protestingly, and beheld the realization of his dream. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. You shall hear from me to-morrow.
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