"Oh, lots of times. Look here!" and she let the chemise slip down again, to display a scar extending from her shoulder to the root of her bosom, which marked the warm olive skin with a thin line of scarlet.
"But now I always take the tub with me."
"The tub?"
"Yes; the wash-tub. I hold it over my head and neck when they come after me."
What a wretched existence was hers--worse than a dog's!
"Why have you gone on staying here when they treat you thus?" he asked. "There are other places in the world."
She gazed at him in astonishment, as if she did not grasp his meaning.
"But I belong here," she said.
"You might at least have left the island, and betaken yourself somewhere where your life would not always be in danger."
She gave a short laugh.