A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. We LIKED each other well enough. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. He saw that she was tense. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. He stopped abruptly. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence.
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