Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. When he saw, his roars could be heard across the lagoon. Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind.
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