A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. “Cheer up, Annabel. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question. Let alone a girl. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest.
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