Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. By instinct. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. CHAPTER IX. “Bother it all!” she swore. “But we satisfy one another. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. One would think I had agreed to her going. She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him.
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