“Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle.
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