‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. The south-east end of the island was hillocky, with volcanic subsoil.
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