“David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. ” “Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. ’ ‘Oh, don’t you?’ Gerald said grimly. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. I miss her a lot. Jonathan gave utterance to a low whistle.
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