And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Then—then we shall be together. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Don’t take my word for it though. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand.
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