***** Coconuts grew perpetually. This was in Tennessee. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. People who would not go. Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded, died. There was a black fear in his heart.
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