But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. My boys are all Sandwich Island born. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue.
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