“You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. The stores, the drying bins, McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an exquisite landlocked lagoon. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. She is more dear to me than anything else.
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