And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. The biological laboratory had an atmosphere that was all its own. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it.
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