It keeps dangling in front of my eyes. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Jack submitted to this scrutiny with a very bad grace, and vehemently protested his innocence. She forgot her vital hatred of the South Seas; she forgot that McClintock's would not differ a jot from the old island she had for ever left behind her; she forgot all the doctor's lessons and warnings. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in.
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