"Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite wonderful. "Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea stuff, that yarn of yours. “Annabel;” he moaned. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. It comforts him when he is most forlorn.
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