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 island on the rim of a crater of a sunken volcano. They're round, you know, a circle of sand with palm trees and parrots; and frigate birds and albatrosses over the sea. Let's shoot an albatross with a cross-bow, Jay, and for our punishment have the wind drop down.

"We'll parch on the painted ship, Jay, upon the painted ocean. Then the wind'll rise:

"There's some place, Jay, where no one's ever sailed, some path in the sea! Let's sail it, you and me!"

"Let's, Lida," he whispered with lips on hers and holding her close, trembling as she; more, in fact, than she, for she ceased to quiver.

"It's merely a matter of nerve enough to break away from this crazy thing called civilization. Have you the nerve, man married to me?"

"It's not nerve," denied Jay.

"What is it?"

He held her, staring into her black eyes, aware of her