“My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. ’ ‘I am relieved to hear it. "Begone! or I fire!" he cried. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. There was no response. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: 1.
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