To-morrow we'll raise our first island. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. For a moment none of them stirred; then slowly Enschede turned away. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. I do not love any one.
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