She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. The Supper at Mr. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own.
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