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She would not even try to profit by what time she had, but sat in the house, and now had the bottle out and viewed it with unutterable fear, and now, with loathing, hid it out of sight. By-and-by, Keawe came back, and would have her take a drive. "My husband, I am ill," she said. "I am out of heart. Excuse me, I can take no pleasure." Then was Keawe more wroth than ever. With her, because he thought she was brooding over the case of the old man; and with himself, because he thought she was right, and was ashamed to be so happy. "This is your truth," cried he, "and this your affection! Your husband is just saved from eternal ruin, which he encountered for the love of you - and you can take no pleasure! Kokua, you have a disloyal heart." He went forth again furious, and wandered in the