There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. "You mustn't!" "Nothing can change that, Dawn Pearl. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. 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. Wood obeyed.
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