‘Didn’t mean it, love. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. 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. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. "Is there no charity? Isn't it understood?" "Of course it is! In the present instance I can offer it and you can't, or shouldn't. "But, as I was saying, I was most dreadfully frightened on the night of the robbery! Though so young at the time, I remember every circumstance distinctly.
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