CHAPTER XXX
FIVE PACES NORTH
One request the stranger made of Sally before he left, that Linda might stay with her until next morning when Pierre the boatman expected to start on the return voyage to the port. Even if more respectably run than in her stepfather's devious régime, the Café of Many Tongues would yield a living, and she could not stay in the house on the mountain with him. So, after a farewell to Linda, gentle and considerate but not at all the one her heart longed for, the young Frenchman started towards his lonely lodgings, with the big Alexandre, who returned a half-hour later with her few belongings.
What the girl called Linda suffered through Larone's decision, only Sally guessed, seeing her hands like twin white moths flutter after his vanishing figure, then clench tightly as if she could so choke back the tears. It was several moments before she heard her new friend calling. She followed silently to the beach, where the golden and orange banners of a great fire were waving royally in a prankish breeze. And she made only a dumb show of eating, sitting as far apart from the others as she could without seeming ungracious, and never uttering a word.
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