Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. James Boyle O'Higgins knew little or nothing of the South Seas, but he knew human beings, all colours. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. “Really,” she said. ’ ‘Do you care to test that theory?’ Gerald suggested easily. . “It—it—must come,” she faltered. CHAPTER XIX. I will not be sent away.
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