There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. “I feel fat! I already gained five pounds last week because I was stuck in bed with my ear infection. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. He recognized the face instantly. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. Still unconscious of anything he did physically.
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