This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. " "Let me have them. “You will have some tea?” she asked. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. “I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper.
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