She swallowed hard. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. 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. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself. Her soft brown eyes, inherited from Larry, warmed an already pretty face. He knew it was unnerving, he did it to everyone, even his own kin.
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