Wild has done his business. She pushed him gently on the chest. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. “My parents left for Vail on a plane this morning. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. They could no longer stay in one place. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on.
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