{"id":"01KG8AM0FS0FG94DHFJ8SFQEC4","cid":"bafkreigbf2c7r7rui65jn4bpxplvqsk3lpazgenzzpjelwdlxpl2vtjs4a","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":5116,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.535Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","start_line":5081,"text":"origin in the blessed isle of Oroolia; and thus fostering in her heart\r\nthe mysterious interest, with which from the first she had regarded me.\r\nBut if punctilious reserve on the part of her deliverer should teach\r\nher to regard him as some frigid stranger from the Arctic Zone, what\r\nsympathy could she have for him? and hence, what peace of mind, having\r\nno one else to cling to?\r\n\r\nNow re-entering the tent, she again inquired where tarried Aleema.\r\n\r\n“Think not of him, sweet Yillah,” I cried. “Look on me. Am I not white\r\nlike yourself? Behold, though since quitting Oroolia the sun has dyed\r\nmy cheek, am I not even as you? Am I brown like the dusky Aleema? They\r\nsnatched you away from your isle in the sea, too early for you to\r\nremember me there. But you have not been forgotten by me, sweetest\r\nYillah. Ha! ha! shook we not the palm-trees together, and chased we not\r\nthe rolling nuts down the glen? Did we not dive into the grotto on the\r\nsea-shore, and come up together in the cool cavern in the hill? In my\r\nhome in Oroolia, dear Yillah, I have a lock of your hair, ere yet it\r\nwas golden: a little dark tress like a ring. How your cheeks were then\r\nchanging from olive to white. And when shall I forget the hour, that I\r\ncame upon you sleeping among the flowers, with roses and lilies for\r\ncheeks. Still forgetful? Know you not my voice? Those little spirits in\r\nyour eyes have seen me before. They mimic me now as they sport in their\r\nlakes. All the past a dim blank? Think of the time when we ran up and\r\ndown in our arbor, where the green vines grew over the great ribs of\r\nthe stranded whale. Oh Yillah, little Yillah, has it all come to this?\r\nam I forever forgotten? Yet over the wide watery world have I sought\r\nthee: from isle to isle, from sea to sea. And now we part not. Aleema\r\nis gone. My prow shall keep kissing the waves, till it kisses the beach\r\nat Oroolia. Yillah, look up.”\r\n\r\nSunk the ghost of Aleema: Sweet Yillah was mine!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJS9RQ86TKSRCPV23G8NH","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AM0FY6WE7MVDE2S1KJWE9","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:23.033Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:29.811Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}