All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. Yet he stays. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. “You have succeeded a little too well in your personation,” she said bitterly, “to get rid very easily of Mr.
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