Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. Sheppard. Presently she saw Spurlock on the way to the lagoon.
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