‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. Part 6 They spent the next Sunday in Richmond Park, and mingled the happy sensation of being together uninterruptedly through the long sunshine of a summer’s day with the ample discussion of their position. .
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