She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. "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 love some one else?” he repeated. The deafening report froze time. The perception of him flooded her being. —"Stay! something occurs to me.
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