’ Gerald laughed. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. Tell me what you think the island is like. But it is the truth.
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