"Is that all?"
"All."
"You do not see latent beauty, proud courage, and a possible great gulf of love in that poor wild little face?"
"Nothing of the kind," replied Christine decidedly. "I see an ugly little girl: that is all."
The next day the boat returned, and brought back five persons—the old grandfather, Felipa, Drollo, Miguel of the island and—Edward Bowne.
"Already?" I said.
"Tired of the Madre, Kitty: thought I would come up here and see you for a while. I knew you must be pining for me."
"Certainly," I replied: "do you not see how I have wasted away?"
He drew my arm through his and raced me down the plank-walk toward the shore, where I arrived laughing and out of breath.
"Where is Christine?" he asked.