If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. To Spurlock's observing eye, Enschede's wrinkles multiplied and the folds in his clothes. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. " "Never to return," remarked Jack, gloomily.
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