” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. Spurlock—for that's his real name—were married at high noon. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived.
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