” “Did it hurt when we did it?” His voice rose, inflamed with worry. YOU did. But I forget," he added, glancing at Austin; "it's high treason to speak disrespectfully of Mr. Wood, in equal trepidation. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless.
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