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. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. CHAPTER IV. . She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any.
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