” He stood up with his legs parted in an inverted “V”, puffing up, trying to make himself look bigger. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. To-morrow we'll raise our first island. ” “Anything except that,” he murmured.
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