47, straightening her hat and waiting for her luggage to appear. You think everything is harmless and simple, and so forth. CHAPTER I. ‘I know you, Gerald. Hill lost a little of his truculency. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. Fortunately, ever since Wild's late murderous attack, the household has all been well armed. .
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