” “Why?” Mr. He kissed her at the door. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. I shall never come back. “I have not left this apartment myself. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank.
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