Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. She hated it, she hated the mission-house;
she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Wood's
astonishment and displeasure momentarily increased. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave. She had now the clear and
tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap
of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that
somewhere near to me. The Dawn Pearl! To be
with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock
for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him!
He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging
into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it.
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This video was uploaded to casualcorneroutlet.net on 13-07-2024 16:14:03