All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. I walked London till the soles of my shoes were worn through, and my toes were blistered. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. Adieu! my charmer. ’ ‘Well, but he was a deserter, you see.
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