" "Pshaw!" said Wild. “I know. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. Ann Veronica considered her answer. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. . There were always parrots and parrakeets screaming in the fruit groves. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Part 9 The realization that she was in love flooded Ann Veronica’s mind, and altered the quality of all its topics. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley.
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