It was the largest room in the house, which was why it had been given over to the main business of the convent as a house of God. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. 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. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail.
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