CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. Gerald had himself told her that this Prudence will present her to society as Melusine Charvill. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. So the talk went on. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. “I do not even know who you are. He filled his pipe slowly. I'll lay my life he's gone. "Oh, I've read that!" Spurlock had heard distinctly enough all of this odd conversation; but until the spinster's reference to the family album, no phrase had been sufficient in strength of attraction to break the trend of his own unhappy thoughts. He looked no longer at his wife. If only Gerald would come. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. “Dear me!” he said.
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