Then go and fetch this daughter of yourn. Wily little devil she is. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. She had thought to wear it now, since she must look more the demoiselle. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. The theme was a masquerade. ‘I assure you it suits her as Mary would not. He had heard this talk before. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. The strong potation he had taken, combined with fatigue and anxiety he had previously undergone, made him oversleep himself, and when he awoke it was just beginning to grow light.
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