CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. ” “Would you like to be a boy?” “I wonder! It’s out of the question, any way. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. The stores, the drying bins, McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an exquisite landlocked lagoon. Emile Gosse must know his only chance was to be rid of Melusine. She awoke and found herself home amid a pile of three bodies, one of which she recognized as a former denizen of the household. “It rests with them by the nature of things. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. ‘Very.
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