’ Gerald could not suppress a grin. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. Nice position. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. “Katy Pfister. She looked at him mournfully.
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