An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. Surely his calculated desire to sit near her meant that his attention had surely been brought from its normal diversions into her realm. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut.
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