She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief.
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