She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. The dining saloon was done in mahogany and sandalwood, with eight cabins, four to port and four to starboard. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. I should like Mr. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. “Do tell me all about it. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. ‘Ah, trying to be the young hero, I take it, which is why he near got hisself killed. Nice lady. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work.
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