’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. Of course, at home there would have been questions. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in.
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