Smith's melody had subsided. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in.
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