He looked at her with a certain curiosity. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. She recognized the face but could not quite place it. “Anyway, enough about that. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. ” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him.
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