“He dissembles,” he said. It was after all a momentary affair. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled. Come along with us in the morning. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured.
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