She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. “I have been very selfish,” she declared. “Jacques is wounded and we are arrested by this imbecile of a sergeant. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. ” “A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped. IX. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. The island had evidently grown round this lagoon, approached it gradually from the volcanic upheaval—an island of coral and lava.
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