She had looked forward to an explanation. The island had evidently grown round this lagoon, approached it gradually from the volcanic upheaval—an island of coral and lava. She wanted to kiss his feet. He stopped in mid-sentence, and Ann Veronica opened the door for her aunt. She was quite assured that she would never see him again. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag.
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