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” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them everywhere. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. “Well,” he said at last slowly, “I’ll pay it. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. 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. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. I must leave England to-night. I also have eyes, and I have seen the picture.
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