” “Do you mean,” Courtlaw asked, “that from now to the end of the six months you do not wish to see us—any of us?” Her eyes were a little dim again. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. His fears supplied him with unwonted vigour. " So she told him the adventure of the two beachcombers in the typhoon, and how they became regenerated by their magnificent courage.
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