"Oh, yes I remember!" he said. "I wish I had faced the matter there and
then. It would have been better."
"I doubt that," she replied. "The natives who saw you coming from Alo's
hut did not know you. You wisely came straight to the Consul's office--my
father's house. And I helped you, though Alo, half-caste Alo, was--my
sister!"
Roscoe started back. "Alo--your--sister!" he exclaimed in horror.
"Yes, though I did not know it till afterwards, not till just before my
father died. Alo's father was my father; and her mother had been honestly
married to my father by a missionary; though for my sake it had never
been made known. You remember, also, that you carried on your relations
with Alo secretly, and my father never suspected it was you."
"Your sister!" Roscoe was white and sick.
"Yes. And now you understand my reason for wishing you ill, and for
hating you to the end."
"Yes," he said despairingly, "I see."
She was determined to preserve before him the outer coldness of her
nature to the last.
"Let us reckon together," she said. "I helped to--in fact, I saved your
life at Apia.
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