" CHAPTER V. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. " Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but friendly interest in all he said or did. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. You must have figured that out by now. See paragraph 1.
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