” “It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. My own impression is that he already knows.
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