By George, I forgot! McClintock said there was a typewriter in the office and that I could have it. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. “You must tell me the truth, please. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. At other times he seemed to have regained the normal completely. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. “But it is so difficult——” “Not at all,” he answered eagerly.
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