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” Sir John, frankly oblivious of the possibility of passers-by, took her into his arms and kissed her. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. “I’ve plenty of pals,” he said, “who, when they’ve been doing Paris on the Q. “Really?” “Would not let it go. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. I'll have to put some pep into the game— American pep. F. ” She changed the subject abruptly. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. It was an impulse. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire.
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This video was uploaded to ssibasmatirice.com on 26-04-2024 11:04:59
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