" "Heaven have compassion on you, Rowland!" murmured his sister, crossing her hands and looking upwards; "you have none on me. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. ’ She sighed. "The Captain's in such a desperate hurry, that there's no time for love-making. We will beg our bread and our shelter, and our passage on a boat. ’ Gerald laughed. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. How dreary it all looks.
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