"My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. Good and Evil. ’ Gerald raised his brows. Consent to become my wife, and do not compel me to have recourse to violence to effect my purpose, and I will spare your son. 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. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been.
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