She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. "What for?" demanded Wood. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. . Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. Clearing the recess the instant after his companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and, locking it, took out the key. No, none at all. The stores, the drying bins, McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an exquisite landlocked lagoon. ‘Let her go. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do.
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