"No, but I wish he was," Lizette returned, with surprising vehemence. "Oh, my dearie, they thought at first he was killed, but, bless you, his wound was no more than a scratch hardly, only he fainted away so dead at first from the shock they thought he was gone. The worst is, that he lived at all, the wicked wretch!"
"Oh, Lizette, how can you be so unkind? I pity Donald Kayne."
"Pity Donald Kayne, Miss Nita—the worst enemy you have on earth unless it be that little cat, Azalea Courtney!"
"Yes, he called himself my enemy, Lizette, and yet I pity him."
"You're wasting your kind feelings, Miss Nita. Now where do you suppose you are this blessed moment?"
"On an island in Fortune's Bay, you said, Lizette."
"Yes, on the loneliest island in the bay, and shut up in a lonely old stone house far away from any but fishermen's huts, for nobody lives here only the roughest, poorest sort of people, and mighty few even of that sort!"
"But what does it matter, Lizette, since my husband will come soon and take us away?"
"Not while he thinks we are both drowned and dead."