CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks.
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