Muriel drew a deep sigh.
"Oh, Felix," she said--for they were naturally by this time very much at home with one another, "did you ever know anything so dreadful as the mystery of these taboos?
It seems as if we should never get really to the bottom of them.

Mali's always springing some new one upon me.

I don't believe we shall ever be able to leave the island--we're so hedged round with taboos.

Even if we were to see a ship to-day, I don't believe they'd allow us to signal it." There was a red sunset; a lurid, tropical, red-and-green sunset.

It boded mischief.
They were passing by some huts at the moment, and over the stockade of one of them a tree was hanging with small yellow fruits, which Felix knew well in Fiji as wholesome and agreeable.