" "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. And instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely hurt! One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her.
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