"I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. There must be something behind the missioner's actions, something of which the girl knew nothing nor suspected. “No man can realize,” she said, “what that pit can be. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone.
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