“The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation.
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