“Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. Kneebone's. ‘Give me an opportunity to open my mouth, and I will. ” She said. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. ’ Gerald could not resist.
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