"I'm not ashamed of being half native," Ethel said sullenly.
"Of course not, darling. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
With her soft cheek against his he felt incredibly weak.
"You don't know how much I love you," he said. "I'd give anything in the world to be able to tell you what I've got in my heart."
He sought her lips.
The summer came. The highland valley was green and fragrant, and the hills were gay with the heather. One sunny day followed another in that sheltered spot, and the shade of the birch trees was grateful after the glare of the high road. Ethel spoke no more of Samoa and Lawson grew less nervous. He thought that she was resigned to her surroundings, and he felt that his love for her was so passionate that it could leave no room in her heart for any longing. One day the local doctor stopped him in the street.
"I say, Lawson, your missus ought to be careful how she bathes in our highland streams. It's not like the Pacific, you know."
Lawson was surprised, and had not the presence of mind to conceal the fact.
"I didn't know she was bathing."
The doctor laughed.